Sandpiper
by laughingwarrior
Summary: Chibs/OFC. Against his better judgment, Chibs plays the hero. Part of my AU. Rated for language and lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I've had a few requests for a Chibs fic, and I admittedly have been neglecting him. I figured out a way to slot a romance for him into my AU, and got my hands around an idea for an OFC for him. That's all I've got, but that's all I ever have when I start a story. So, let's give this a whirl. I'm not sure this will be a long story, but I'll play it out until an end presents itself.

If you haven't read my other stuff, there's bound to be some spoilage for those stories here, but otherwise it should stand alone.

Where this occurs in the timeline of my AU, if that's of interest to you: About a year or so after the end of Danger and Play. (Well, after CH 31 of D&P)

One of the reasons I've been reluctant to engage much with Chibs is I struggle with the proper way to write his accent. I struggle to write it phonetically, and it's hard to read when it's written phonetically. My solution here is not to try. Other than some diction and word choices, I'm writing him straight. You can add the accent in your imagination.

**Disclaimer:** I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

_The roaring alongside he takes for granted,  
and that every so often the world is bound to shake._

_—from "Sandpiper," Elizabeth Bishop_

**Chapter 1:**

Chibs slammed his phone shut and stormed toward the clubhouse. He came up short. He wanted a drink—no, he _needed_ a drink—but he didn't want to go in there. Friday night. Place was crawling with 'Eaters, and he was _not_ in the mood.

Dammit, Fiona. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

That had been the latest—no, that had been the _last_—in a long series of bitter arguments with his old lady, who was rooted up to her righteous tight pussy in Irish soil. Jimmy O was dead, Kerrianne was grown and off at university—in medical school, for chrissakes—and still he could not get his woman to the States. He'd worked out a top-notch forged visa for her, cost him a bloody Queen's ransom, and still nothing.

Tonight, she'd finally said what was true. She'd made him face it.

_Fee, you're me old lady. An old lady belongs with her man._

_Aye, Filip, she does. But I don't_.

His wife, but not his old lady. Well, he'd be damned straight to hell before he divorced her. That much Catholic still ran deep in him.

He stood in the middle of the T-M lot, angry and disconcerted, no idea what he wanted or where he wanted to be. Away. Drunk. That's all he had.

Fuck it. He'd go home, stop at the liquor store on the way. He went straight to his bike, ignoring Tig and Hap where they sat on the picnic table outside the clubhouse door, and took off, barely taking the time to strap on his helmet.

-oOo-

Still fuming, he stormed into Charming Package Liquor and headed straight for the Jameson. They kept the whiskey near the back of the store, and even that had him pissed off tonight. Christ, he was in a mood. He yanked a bottle from the shelf.

All he'd dealt with over the years—Jimmy taking Fee and him not being able to do shite about it, Jimmy _raising his girl_. All of it, and he'd stayed true to his old lady.

Well, true in his heart, anyway.

Christ, he was a sap. He'd sat on his arse all those years and let it happen. Sure, Jimmy was big news with the IRA, but he'd barely fought. Not for years. Finally slashing and killing that villainous son of a whore had been hugely satisfying.

But the truth of it—the real, hard truth—was that, no matter how good the reasons, he'd sat by while Jimmy O'Phelan took his family. He hadn't protected them—he'd thought so, but no. He'd told himself that by stepping aside he was keeping Kerrianne safe from the IRA and from Jimmy's depravity. But that was a bag of shite. No wonder Fee was done with him now. He grabbed another bottle. He didn't think one would be enough tonight. He turned and headed up to the counter.

Just then, a woman yelled, "Dammit, please! My cell is dead, and it's important—like, life or death! Please! Be a human being and let me use the phone!" Desperation came off the woman's voice in shards.

A few rows of shelves separated Chibs from the front of the store, so he couldn't see who'd spoken. He couldn't hear Jonah, the guy behind the counter, reply, but he could tell the old man had said something, and it wasn't what the woman wanted to hear. There was a metallic crash, and Chibs looked up into the round, convex surveillance mirror on the ceiling, to see long, golden hair and a long, loose floral dress; Jonah and his comb-over; and a spinning display of mini-bags of crisps—or chips, or whatever they were—lying on its side near the register. A lot of the bags had burst from the weight of the rack, which was in pieces. The woman was crying. Jonah, now, was yelling.

"You're paying for all that, you little bitch. If I have to take it out in trade!"

In four long strides, Chibs came around the shelves and faced the scene. "Jonah."

Apparently, Jonah had forgotten Chibs was in the store, or he had never noticed. Now, he paled and took a step back. "Chibs. Hey."

Chibs walked up to the counter, stepping over the mess, and set his two bottles of Jameson down. Then he turned to the woman, who was getting control of her tears and eyeing him suspiciously. He pulled his prepay out and handed it to her. "Make your call, lass."

Her hands dropped away from her face, and she goggled at him, her eyes—deep blue, like sapphires—wide with shock. She had a spray of freckles over her nose and cheekbones. She was really quite lovely, despite the tears. Chibs' eyes traveled downward. She was wearing a long, brown cardigan and a dress that looked like a big, flowered sack, so he had no idea if the body matched that lovely face.

"What?"

He shook the phone a little. "Make your call. It's alright." She turned a bright, wide smile on him then—oh, really lovely it was—and took the phone from him. With a little nod toward the other side of the store, she silently asked if she could step away for some privacy. Chibs nodded and watched her go over to the chilled beers.

He turned back to Jonah. "What d'we owe ya for the crisps—chips?"

The old man looked at him over his trifocals. "We? Chibs, she's just a drifter."

"How much?" He wasn't in the mood to converse with the old fuck. He wasn't sure himself why he was rescuing the damsel in the ugly dress, but he didn't need to clear it with a sad case working second shift at a booze shop.

"She broke the display, too. 200 bucks."

Not deigning to respond, Chibs peeled five twenties off his wad and laid them on the counter. "She's even."

Jonah opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again after a good look at Chibs. After a pause, he found his balls and pointed to the bottles of Jameson. "What about the booze?"

Chibs peeled two more twenties and set them down on the pile of bills. "Now I'm even, too." He grabbed the bottles and turned away from the counter, almost clocking his distressed damsel, who'd come up behind him. New tears in her eyes and more worry on her face, she held out his prepay with a brave but faulty smile.

"Thanks, really. That was so nice of you."

He took his phone and slid it back into his pocket. "No worries, lass. Everything sorted?"

"Um, sure. I just have to—" She nodded toward Jonah.

"No, lass. That's sorted, too." He smiled, and he saw her notice the scars bisecting his cheeks.

She dropped her eyes as if she realized she'd been staring. "That's—I don't know what to say. Thank you."

"Welcome. You have a good night, love." He took his fine Irish whiskey and headed out to his bike.

There was an older station wagon, a Ford Taurus, mid-90s or so, parked in the lot near his Dyna. The back was packed to the roof. He put the Jameson in his saddlebags, and swung his leg over his bike. As he was putting his helmet on, his damsel came out and went to the beater Taurus. He watched, interested, as she opened the door to the back seat and leaned in.

There was a kid sleeping on the seat—a little girl. Chibs could see long, honey-blonde hair and a bit of a pink top. As he watched, his damsel fell to a squat just outside the car and put her head on the seat next to the child's head. She was crying again.

Clearly, big drama was happening over there. Drama Chibs didn't need. He had plenty of his own. His best call was to head to his flat and proceed with his plan to drink until he forgot he'd ever known a woman named Fiona Larkin.

He took off his helmet and dismounted. She didn't notice him coming up on her, and when he bent down and put his hand on her back, saying, "Lass," she almost leapt straight out of that ugly dress.

"What do you want?" She stood and put herself between him and the little girl still sleeping, but beginning to stir, on the back seat.

He hadn't expected the belligerent tone. She was his damsel, after all. He'd done nothing but rescue her thus far. "Nothing. Just looks like you need some help."

"Well, I don't. Thank you for what you did in there, but we're fine now. Thanks, really." She was tucked backwards between the car and the door, holding onto the door, protecting the kid like a mama bear.

Chibs had had enough of a glimpse inside to know that they weren't on a road trip. They were living in that station wagon. "I don't mean to overstep, lass, but you look a fair stretch from fine. I'd like to help, if I can."

Her brave face entirely deserted her, and all at once she looked defeated. "Why?"

"True? I don't know." The little girl coughed then, hard and long, and Chibs' damsel turned quickly and leaned in, rapping her head sharply on the top of the car. She grabbed her head and fell back, landing on the asphalt. All pretense of bravery was gone, and she sat there and sobbed.

"Mommy?" The little girl sat up. She was four, maybe five. Wrapped in her own misery, her mom didn't get up right away, so Chibs stepped forward and peered in. By the dim glow of the dome lamp, Chibs could see bright red circles on her sweet little cheeks.

"Mummy needs a minute, wee lassie. I'm a friend. Can I help?" She grabbed at an understuffed brown bunny and looked at him warily, but when he reached in and put his hand on her cheek, she didn't pull away.

She was fiery hot to the touch.

"Not feeling so well, are ya, lass?" He turned and squatted next to his damsel, who was sniffling herself back to some kind of composure. "That's a sick little one. I think you do need help, yeah?"

With an expression of abject misery, she nodded.

Astonished at himself even as he spoke, Chibs said, "I want you to follow me. I'll be straight with you—I'm taking you to me flat. I've got some medicine there, a hot shower, and a good bed. Seems like you need all those things. Will you come?"

Again, she nodded. He stood and held out his hand. She took it and let him help her to her feet.

He didn't let go of her hand, turning his hold instead to a handshake of greeting. "I'm Chibs."

She shook without enthusiasm. "Laura."

"Lovely to meet you, Laura. And the little one?"

She turned a sharp, almost hostile look on him for a brief second, then let it drop. "Eileen."

Peeking down into the car with a smile, he said, "Ah, that's a beautiful name." He turned back to Laura. "Well, shall we?"

She nodded, and he walked her to the driver's door of her weathered old car.

-oOo-

On the ride to his flat, he decided to stop trying to figure out what he was doing. He was too far committed to turn back now, anyway. So he unlocked the door and let them in, Laura carrying a sleeping Eileen. Chibs wasn't a slob, but neither was he much of a decorator. His place was clean, but, well, calling it Spartan wouldn't be putting too fine a point on it. But the furniture was decent.

Laura started to lay Eileen on the couch, but Chibs put a hand on her arm to stop her. "Take her to the bed. It's made, clean sheets. You can both sleep there. This way." He led her down the short hall and opened his bedroom door. "I'll get her some Tylenol. Can she swallow pills? Or—me little one used to take it crushed up in jam. Would she like that? I've blackberry, I think."

Taking Eileen's little canvas sneakers off, Laura turned, surprised. "The jam—that would be great. Just half a pill, though." Chibs nodded and went into the kitchen, stopping on the way to hang his kutte up on a hook near the door. He made up the dose of Tylenol, crushed and mixed with jam, and wet a cloth with cool water, too, just in case. Laura took it all with a grateful smile, and Chibs went back to the kitchen and poured two glasses of whiskey.

She came out, looking shy. When Chibs handed her a glass she took it, but didn't drink. "I don't know why you're doing this, but, uh—we needed the help. So thank you."

"Your wee one gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, I think so." She took a sip of the whiskey, and then another, longer swallow. She coughed a bit, then said, "I was sick last week—a flu thing, I guess. I think she got it. I'll keep an eye on her tonight, though."

"Close quarters like that car, not surprised you'd share germs. You're living in it, yeah?"

Her expression changed abruptly, as if she'd dropped a gate down. "Thanks for your help." She handed him the half-drunk glass and turned away, heading to the bedroom. Chibs heard the door shut firmly.

Sighing heavily, still unsure what the glorious fuck he was up to, he drank down his glass, the rest of hers, and took the bottle over to the couch. He sat in the near-dark and drank most of the bottle. Finally, he toed off his boots and lay down. The couch was sturdy and fair comfortable, but he was too damn old to spend the whole night on it, even half jaked on whiskey. The trials of being a hero.

He was just starting to drift off on his Jameson-soaked sleep cloud when he heard the bedroom door open. The hall light came on, and he blinked his vision clear. Laura appeared at the end of the couch. The ugly, frumpy, saggy dress and frayed cardigan were gone; she was wearing only a thin, pink tank top and white panties.

Now he knew that her body suited her lovely face quite well. He sat up. So did his cock.

"Laura?"

She took an audible breath before she spoke. "Look. I—I can't owe you, but I don't have anything to give you. I don't know if you're being nice to us so you can fuck me or not, but either way, it's all I have to repay you. So . . . you can fuck me if you want."

Sweet Mary, mother of Christ.

Aye. Indeed. He wanted to fuck her. If she'd come into the room and just gone straight for him, he'd be elbow deep in her pussy already. But she was standing there, offering herself in trade, so vulnerable and sad. In distress. His damsel. He shook his head.

Grabbing the crocheted afghan off the back of the couch, he stood and wrapped her up in it. Having his hands on her did nothing to make it easier to send her back down the hall, but he did it. "No, lass. You're a vision, you are, but I didn't help you to get anything from you. Go be with your little one. She needs you more than me."

She went back down the hall without a word, clutching the patchwork afghan close around her. Alone again in his spare living room, Chibs looked down at the bulge in his jeans. He went into the bathroom and took care of the situation himself, thinking of sad sapphire eyes and full breasts stretching out a thin, pink top.

Then he went back and passed out uncomfortably on the couch.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Wow—so much Chibs love! Thank you so much for the reviews, faves, and follows—and for reading, of course! I hope Chibs, Laura, and I don't disappoint. :)

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

When Laura woke, she resisted at first, feeling snug and comfortable. She didn't want to wake yet; she wanted this to last. It had been weeks since she'd slept in a bed.

With that thought, she was wide awake and full of adrenaline. She was in a bed. Why was she in a bed? Oh, that's right. She'd come home with a stranger. A biker, even. She'd brought her child into a stranger's home. What the _fuck_ was wrong with her?

She'd tried not to sleep. She'd tried to watch over Eileen and keep an eye on the door, in case the biker—what was his name? Chibs? Was that right?—changed his mind and decided to collect payment for the accommodations.

But the bed felt so good. It had made her choke up to slide between clean sheets and lie flat on a good mattress, her head on fluffy pillows. Sleeping with the driver's seat leaning back was hard. Sleeping so exposed to anyone who walked by was harder. Knowing her daughter was just as exposed and vulnerable as she was hardest.

She hadn't been able to resist the pull of her exhaustion. When Leenie's fever broke and she settled into a deeper, easy sleep, Laura had finally succumbed herself. The biker had never tried to collect. And she was more rested than she'd been since they'd pulled away from their ex-home. No—since before that. Since she'd gotten the eviction notice. Sleep had pretty much ended that day.

Leenie was still sleeping, Mr. Snuffles tucked firmly under her chin. Laura slid carefully out of bed and pulled her dress on over her head. She should have brought some clothes in, definitely some soap and stuff, but she'd been running on autopilot last night, at the very trailing edge of her wits. She was out of solutions, but she seemed to have an endless supply of things that needed solving. When the biker had been so nice to her, she'd just caved.

It looked like maybe he was an actual nice guy, despite the scars and the leather. She and her girl were both very, very lucky. Hah—funny. Lucky. Right.

She stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door, releasing the latch silently. As she turned to go down the hall, she heard the sounds and smelled the smells of breakfast. Her stomach rumbled emphatically. She hadn't eaten since . . . well, she'd had an apple yesterday. Feeding herself wasn't exactly a priority. She needed to make sure Leenie was fed, and she didn't know how long they were going to have to live on the dwindling fold of cash in her bag. If a new solution hadn't appeared by the time that was gone, she guessed she'd have to panhandle.

Lord. Less than three months ago, she'd had a job, an apartment, even cable TV and a DVR.

She made a haphazard attempt to smooth out her dress and went down the little hall and around the corner. The biker—Chibs, his name was Chibs, wouldn't do to call him "the biker" after all this rescuing—was standing at an electric range, pushing sausages around in a cast-iron skillet.

"Morning."

He turned and smiled at her. He was handsome. Older—maybe old enough to be her father, or close to it—but handsome, with full, longish salt-and-pepper hair and a dark silver goatee; kind, dark eyes; and an open smile. His look was equal parts danger and refuge. The long, deep scars across both cheeks, slicing through his dimples, enhanced the impression. They'd scared her at first, seen in the harsh lights of the liquor store. But now, no. In fact, they stirred something like sympathy—it must have been terrible to have been hurt so badly.

Funny to feel sorry for the man who'd spent the past twelve hours as her hero. She laughed a little, and his smile deepened.

"Mornin', love. There's coffee, or I can put the kettle on if you'd rather tea."

She walked up to the counter and took a mug off a tree in the corner. As she poured her coffee, Chibs said, "Go ahead, if you like a bit of Irish." She didn't understand what he meant—was he hitting on her somehow?—but she saw him nod toward the bottle of whiskey on the counter. Oh, right. Irish coffee.

"No, thanks. Black is fine." Really, she'd like some milk, too, but she was too shy to ask. She took an experimental sip of the hot, black liquid—whoa. Strong. Okay, that would get her morning started. She leaned against the counter. "Is there something I can do?"

"Would you mind doing toast?" He nodded to his near right. She looked around him and saw a 4-slice pop-up toaster and a loaf of white bread.

"Sure." She dropped 4 slices of Wonder into the toaster and pushed the lever down. "You always make such a big breakfast in the morning?"

"I do, yeah. Most important meal of the day. Will Eileen eat any of it?"

"She'll eat anything you put in front of her. She's the opposite of picky."

"How is she? The fever?" He turned back to the stove and scooped something out of a boiling pot—poached eggs—and laid them on three plates. Laura's stomach was doing the cha-cha.

"She's better. Her fever broke last night, and she's sleeping really good this morning. I don't know how to thank you, Chibs."

When she said his name, he turned and met her eyes, smiling. He really did have a nice smile. "No need for thanks, love." The toast popped, and he put a slice on each plate, then added a couple of links. Then, strangely, he forked tomato slices off a small cutting board and added those, too.

"Tomatoes?" She didn't think of tomatoes as breakfast food.

He shrugged. "They're good." He set the plates on the small, round table in the corner. He'd set three places, with silverware and paper napkins, neatly folded.

From down the hall, Leenie called out, "Mommy?" Laura could hear the thread of fear, and she hurried back to the bedroom. Leenie was standing in the doorway, looking sleepy and disoriented, but much less sick.

"Hey, ladybug. How you feeling? Any better?"

She nodded and raised her arms to be picked up, still clutching Mr. Snuffles. She was almost five, but she'd regressed a lot in the past weeks, speaking less, needing more. Forgetting about the potty. That was especially hard, in the car. Sometimes, Laura felt right on the edge of screaming at her, but so far she'd swallowed all that down. She knew what was happening to them was hardest of all on her little girl. She picked her up.

"You need the potty, bug?" Leenie nodded, and Laura took her in, marveling, as she had last night, at how tidy it was. In her experience, men did not usually keep clean bathrooms. Not clean to her standards, anyway. But this one, devoid as it was of décor, was almost antiseptic.

When potty was done and hands were washed, Laura led her daughter to the kitchen. Chibs was sitting down at the table, but he hadn't started to eat yet. He'd poured a small glass of orange juice and set it at one of the places. Laura sat Leenie there. With nary a pause, she grabbed up a fork in her little fist and dug in, tomatoes and all. Not the slightest bit picky.

"Out of milk, only got juice. Hope that's okay."

Laura nodded and sat at the remaining plate. "It's great. Thank you." She, too, dug in, trying very hard to maintain a calm demeanor while her insides were rejoicing. Oh, it was good. Really, really, fantastically, amazingly good. A guy who cooked and kept a clean house. A _gentleman_ who cooked and kept a clean house. And had a sexy Scottish brogue—a bit thick, but nice. Wow. Talk about your endangered species.

Chibs turned to Leenie and smiled. "Morning, pretty lassie. Sleep well?" Leenie nodded and grinned, her mouth full of eggs. Chibs laughed. "That's good then!" He seemed comfortable with her—that was something else unusual. But she remembered him saying something about having a "little one" last night.

"You have kids?"

Chibs looked over at her, and his smile broke a little, then came back. "Aye. A daughter. She's at university in Ireland."

So, yeah. About old enough to be her dad. Laura was 23.

"Ireland. That's far. You must really miss her."

"Aye. She's lived there all her life, though. Guess I'm used to missing her."

"You're not with her mom?" _Jesus_, _shut up, dork! What's with the third degree?_ His smile faded completely, and he focused on his breakfast. He didn't answer. _Way to go, Laura. Big mouth._

After a silent few minutes, Chibs pushed back his empty plate and wiped his mouth with his paper napkin. Looking up at her, he asked, "Might I ask what's your next step?"

That got Laura's back up some, but she took a breath and stayed calm. He'd been nothing but helpful—heroic—and had asked for nothing but this answer. It wasn't too much to ask that she'd give him a little information. Just a little. She looked at her daughter. Leenie didn't know most of it, so Laura needed to choose her words carefully.

Or—Leenie was done eating. "Would you mind if I set her up with some TV? We can talk then."

Chibs stood and picked up the empty plates. "Sure. Got all the channels." He took dishes to the sink, and Laura led Leenie to the couch and got her set up with Princess Sofia. When she went back to the kitchen, Chibs was refilling her coffee. They sat at the table, and Laura took a deep breath. A very large part of her couldn't believe she was telling this man anything, but he was quite literally the first person to show them real kindness since everything had fallen apart.

"I don't have a next step, except to keep going, try to keep her safe and healthy." She laughed. "Not doing a great job—got her sick, took her to a stranger's house. Pretty sure the Mom of the Year Award is going to somebody else this time."

His smile really was great. "You got her medicine, a warm bed, and a hot meal. Seems like it turned out okay, yeah?"

Returning his smile, she almost whispered, "Yeah, it did." With a little more strength, she said, "You're not like most guys, Chibs. Is that your real name?"

"It's real, and it's me name. Not the one me mum gave me, but mine." Okay, so she wouldn't push that point. He leaned toward her a little—not too much, not in her bubble, but closer. "Are you trying to get somewhere?"

Was she trying to get somewhere? Away. That's where she was trying to get. Just away. She'd tried to find someone—a friend, an acquaintance, anyone whose number she had—who'd let them stay for awhile, but there was no one. The call she'd made last night had been the last place she could even ask. And it had been a complete bust. Her parents wanted nothing to do with her, and they wanted even less to do with her spawn of sin, otherwise known as Eileen Louise, their granddaughter.

"No. I was, but no. Nowhere special to go." She realized that she was all but begging him to keep helping her—or, at least, that's what it must look like she was doing—and she sat back quickly. "But it'll be fine. I've still got a little money. I'll head south, and I'll find something in LA. We'll be fine."

He laughed. "Aye, good jobs and cheap houses sprout right out of the palm trees down there." He leaned back in his chair, too, and regarded her. Laura felt like he was sizing her up somehow. Or considering his options. Or something. It made her feel awkward and antsy, and she turned the coffee mug around and around in her hands, watching the liquid swirl.

"I think I've a way to help. There's a sandwich shop down the road from where I work. Always has a help wanted sign in the window. And there's a little apartment for rent on the other side of this complex. Not even as big as this, but it's a roof. Town ain't much, job ain't much, place ain't much, but might be a start, and I can put in a word if you like."

Again, Laura was stunned. "Why? You don't know me. Why would you go out of your way like this for a stranger? What do you want?"

"You, love, are too young to be such a cynic. Let's say that your little one reminds me of me Kerrianne, and I want to help her. You're just riding her coattails."

His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket and answered it. "Yeah." After he listened for a few seconds, he said, "Right," and closed the phone. "Gotta go. Make yourself at home. There's towels in the hall closet, and washer-dryer behind that door"—he pointed to the far end of the narrow kitchen—"If your girl needs more medicine, it's on the shelf over the sink. I hope you're here when I get back. If you're not, make sure to turn the lock on the doorknob when you go." He grabbed a paper napkin from the holder on the table and pulled a pen out of the pocket of his shirt. "Your cell work now?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I just needed to get to an outlet so I could charge it."

"Good." He wrote a phone number on the napkin and slid it over to her. "That's me cell. Call if you need anything."

"I don't understand you at all."

He laughed again. "I get that a lot, aye." He got up, grabbed his leather vest from a hook, and headed for the front door. Laura got up too, feeling unsteady. His hand on the knob, Chibs looked over at Leenie, who was staring in rapt fascination at the TV. "Have a good day, little lass. Hope to see you later." Leenie turned and, with a small smile, waved Mr. Snuffles at him. Laura saw him wink, and then he was gone.

Laura stood in his living room and tried to understand what she should do now.

Dear lord, she thought maybe they'd just really been saved. Her breakfast rolled over, and she raced into the bathroom and lost it all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 3:**

After a quick run to Oakland in the morning with Jax and Bobby, the day was unremarkable, and Chibs spent it working on cars. The garage closed a little earlier on Saturdays, which was good, because he had some errands to run.

Laura had not called at all during the day, and Chibs didn't know if she and Eileen were still around, but he proceeded as if she were. After his shift in the garage, since there was no club business going down, he stopped by the deli and secured her an interview—well, a job, really; the owner had too much respect for the Sons not to give her the job, provided she showed for the interview and didn't drool all over herself.

Tig had made a sideways comment when Chibs headed for his bike instead of the clubhouse after the garage closed, but he deflected it and went on his way. He was feeling surprisingly anxious to get back to his flat. He hadn't yet worked out why he was so invested in Laura and her daughter. Maybe it was just timing, meeting her when he was feeling especially dislocated from his family. But it felt good to be able to help her. He felt like he was doing something good.

When he pulled through the gate into his apartment complex—noting that the gate was broken again—he saw that the Taurus was still there. A little knot in his belly loosened. Good. He thought he might take them out for pizza or something. Kids loved pizza.

On second thought, better to order in, though. No need to run into anybody in town and get people talking. There wasn't anything to talk about.

Before he parked near his place, he rode around to the manager's office. He wanted to make sure there was a place for Laura and Eileen to go.

The manager—managers, really—were an older couple who lived on the premises. The "office" was the dining room of their two-bedroom apartment. The complex was cheap and worn, but they kept it up okay, with the help of a couple of day workers. Chibs did most of his own repairs and handled on his own any complaints he might have. He got along fine with Barb and Fred. He wouldn't mention the gate, since he had a big favor to ask.

Barb was at the desk when he went in; she smiled when she saw him. "Hi, Chibs."

He smiled back, pushing his sunglasses onto his head. "Hello, lovely. How are ya today?"

"Oh, you know. Old. What can I do for you?"

"Wondering if that studio upstairs is still free."

"It is."

"Good. I've got it rented for you, then. Friend and her little girl."

Her brow furrowed behind her plastic-rimmed glasses. "A mom and a kid in a studio? I don't think so, Chibs."

"Barb. It'll be fine."

She considered him. He waited and let her. "First, last, and one month's security up front, and she needs to fill out an application and pass credit."

"Half-month's security and first up front, and she'll fill it out but you won't process it." He had no idea what Laura's credit was like, but better safe than sorry.

"Chibs! I don't own this place. I can't—"

"I'm vouching. I'm good for it. You know that. And I know you can work a deal."

"What kind of friend is this?"

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head slowly. "Barb. One in need."

With a huff and a roll of her eyes, Barb said, "Fine. For you. The kid better be quiet. And let's not turn this place into your harem, okay?"

"Barbie, you wound me." He thought of something. "Is it furnished?"

"No, but it can be. Another 50 bucks a month."

"20."

She crossed her arms and gave him a look. "Now who's wounding who? 30."

"That's me good girl." He leaned over the desk and kissed her on the cheek. "When can she get in?"

"Haven't gotten in there to clean yet, and it needs paint—and apparently we need to get some furniture in there. So, three days? Middle of the month—she can pay the half-month. Give her a little boost."

Chibs laughed. "Ah, love, you're a queen! Well done. I'll have her over straightaway." He blew Barb a kiss and headed out to his bike.

-oOo-

He heard the television as he got to his door—obviously a kid show, probably one with puppets. The thought made him smile, and he turned the knob. Tried to, at least. The door was locked. Good girl. He pulled out his keys and let himself in.

Eileen was sitting on the floor, clutching that sad brown bunny, about in the same place she'd been when Chibs left. But she was washed and freshly dressed, her hair up in ponytails, and when he came in, she gave him a big smile. He winked. "Hello, pretty. Have a good day?" She nodded.

Not much of a talker, that one.

Laura was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, and she got up as he hung his kutte on its hook. "Glad to see you're still here." He turned, and his next words evaporated. She was washed and freshly dressed, too, and she was—well, she was beautiful. He had a Jameson-hued memory of her standing nearly naked by the couch last night, but that vision was hazy. This was clear. Her golden hair was straight and silky, and now that it was clean, it shown like sunlight. Her face was youthful and bright, without dark circles haunting her blue eyes like last night. The spray of freckles seemed even brighter on her pale skin. She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt instead of that dreadful sack of a dress, and _Jesus_, her tits were great. Ample. She was otherwise a bit on the skinny side, but he was well and truly distracted and almost had to visibly shake himself to focus again.

"You've got an interview tomorrow for that job, and we need to go to the manager's office and square away the flat. It's just a little studio, but it's all sorted, if you want it."

She hadn't spoken yet, and now she stood there blinking. "Um. Wow. Um. Wow. I don't—wow."

It wasn't a response Chibs had been expecting. "If you don't want to stay, it's fine. No worries." He'd be disappointed, but he barely knew the girl. He _didn't_ know her. Not his place to tell her what to do.

"No, no, it's not that, it's just…" She looked over at her daughter, who was focused with laser intensity on some colorful, furry, dancing creatures. Turning back to Chibs, she nodded toward the kitchen. It wasn't a big place. Not many options for privacy.

When they were tucked away in the kitchen, Laura said, "I can't afford the apartment yet. I only have—well, I need what I've got for food and gas. I'll need to work some before I can get a place. We can stay in the car for a little longer, though. We're getting good at it."

The thought of that little girl in the other room living in a station wagon for even another day drove him crazy. He knew he was projecting all his thwarted fatherly impulses on a stranger's kid—and on the stranger herself, though he was feeling additional impulses toward her that weren't exactly fatherly—and he knew he was being irrational. But he had money, and he had nothing else to do with it but buy whiskey.

He wasn't a fool. He wasn't getting taken in by a grifter. He was helping out someone who needed some help. That was good karma, or something. He was sure he could use some. And if she was a grifter? Well then, fuck karma. He'd handle that, too.

"I'll front you the money. It's only half-month security, and you can move in on Tuesday, with a half-month's rent. Rent's pretty cheap, and with that job, you'll be able to make it on the 1st."

"I can't—I can't take your money. Why would you even offer? You don't know if I would even pay you back."

He shrugged. "If you don't, you don't. Just money."

Her laugh at that was sharp and bitter. "You have no idea how much that says about you. 'Just money.' Try not having it."

"I've been gutter-broke, lass. That's how I know it don't really matter. I'm offering the help if you want it. We gotta go over there now, though, lock it in."

She stood there, staring. Chibs didn't know what else to do to reassure her, and he still wasn't sure why he was trying so hard. Then he heard Eileen whisper-singing to a song on the television, and his heart cramped. Was he having a midlife crisis? He thought only assholes who drove Volvos and played golf did stupid shite like that.

Laura cleared her throat. "I'm paying you back. In _cash_, not in … you know."

"That's starting to piss me off. I'm not ever gonna be asking for you to trade with me."

She had the good grace to blush and look down. "I'm sorry. I just don't understand you."

He lifted her chin and looked down into her dark blue eyes. "You don't have to, lass. Take the help. For your girl."

Oh, shite, she was going to cry—she had that wet, blinky look about her. But she didn't. Instead, she stepped up to him and put her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest. She felt good. Very good. Good enough to give the lie to what he'd just told her. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back.

Smiling up at him, she sniffed and said, "You're an actual hero, you know."

That was rich. "Come on, let's take care of your place."

-oOo-

Later, after they'd handled the rental paperwork, and had eaten the pizza Chibs had ordered in from Gina's, they all three sat in the living room and watched television. It was some animated thing about a lost fish. Chibs hadn't been paying much attention, more focused on reading the paper, but about halfway through, he realized he was watching, and he set the paper and his reading glasses aside. It was pretty cute. Eileen had spiked a little fever during dinner, but her mum gave her some medicine, and she seemed better now.

Laura was sitting on the other side of the couch, a knot of arms and legs, writing in a big journal. She'd been writing in it when he'd come home, too. He didn't ask what—not his business. She'd left a book on the coffee table, and he leaned over and picked it up. _Elizabeth Bishop: The Complete Poems._ Huh. He leafed through and read some. He wasn't much for poetry, but he liked a few of these. They made a kind of sense. In his experience poetry usually didn't.

Getting a tingle at the back of his neck, he looked over to see her watching him. "Oh, sorry. Curious." He closed the book and held it out to her.

She took it. "It's okay. Did you like it?"

He shrugged. "Never heard of her, but aye. Nice."

Her nose crinkled when she laughed. "Never tell a poet her poems are nice."

"Are you a poet?"

"God, no. But Bishop definitely was."

Eileen got up then and came over to stand at his knees, holding her bunny. "Hey, wee lassie. What can I do?" She raised her arms. She wanted him to hold her.

He looked over at Laura, who was agape. She shrugged at his questioning glance, so he picked Eileen up and settled her on his knees. She leaned back on his chest, tucked her rabbit under her chin, stuck her thumb in her mouth, and returned her focus to the movie.

The warmth Chibs felt spreading from his heart through his body scared the almighty fuck out of him.

-oOo-

Eileen fell asleep in his lap, and when the movie ended, he carried her, following Laura, back to the bedroom and tucked her in. He went back out to the living room and sat on the couch. His bed for the next three nights. He got right back up and went into the kitchen for the Jameson. He thought about not bothering with a glass, but Laura might want some. So he brought two glasses down to the counter and filled one.

She walked in as he lifted the glass to his lips. "She likes you."

He lifted the bottle in invitation, but she shook her head. After another swallow, he said, "And I her. She doesn't talk much, does she?"

"She's usually a chatterbox. Since everything … since everything, she's kinda stopped. She's lost a lot of ground, actually. Scares me. Oh! I need to figure out daycare! Or preschool, or something. Oh, shit." She bit her thumbnail, her brows knitted.

"I can take her for your interview, if that's alright. And I know who can help you get daycare." He'd talk to Gem. _That_ would be a lovely chat, but if anybody could solve a domestic problem like daycare, it was Gem. Somehow, though, he knew that pulling Gemma into this meant he was really deep. In what, he did not know.

"God, Chibs. You're like an angel or something."

He laughed hard at that. "I _know_ that's the first time anyone's confused me for an angel. You're batty." Tipping his head back, he drank down the rest of his glass. Laura stepped up to him, and when he brought his head forward, she took the empty glass from him and set it on the counter. She was close enough that those beautiful titties were against his ribs, and then she came up on her tiptoes and put her arms around his neck to hug him. "Thank you," she whispered.

When she'd hugged him before, he'd pushed her off. This time, he couldn't quite manage it. He looped his arms around her waist. She really was skinny below her chest. She needed to eat more. "Happy to help, lass."

She turned her head and pressed her lips to his neck. They were warm and soft, and his cock ignored his stern instructions and came alive, swelling to fullness almost instantly.

Her hands were in his hair, pulling his head down. She was just little; he could hold her off easily. But all he said was, "Laura." He meant it as a warning to stop, but it came out more like a moan. Then her lips were on his, still warm and soft. She didn't kiss him hard, just opened her mouth a little in invitation. He accepted, pushing his tongue in and pulling her close. She'd brushed her teeth after she left Eileen; she tasted minty and sweet. When her tongue slid against his and she pressed hard to his erection with a little whimper, he groaned.

That sound brought him back a little, and he pulled away. "No, lass. I told you. You're not beholden to me." He unlocked her arms from around his neck and set her back. It was not easy.

She looked hurt, but Chibs didn't know what to do about that. "Yeah, I am beholden to you. A lot. But that's not what this is. I like you. You're sweet to my baby. You're good. There's not many good guys, you know. I—I want you."

He heard a lot in that stutter, that hesitation. Maybe it was nothing more than shyness, but even so, she wasn't comfortable with what she was doing. Of course she wasn't. She was half his age, and she was no Crow Eater. She tried to step in again, but he held her off. "No. No. You're lovely, and sweet Christ, you feel good. But no." He needed her to get away. He wasn't in the habit of turning away pretty girls who were climbing all over him, and he wasn't nearly as good as she thought he was.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. "Go on to bed, love. I'll see you in the morning."

"Chibs…"

"Go on. G'night." He turned her and gave her a gentle shove out of the kitchen. She went, thank the stars, and Chibs grabbed the bottle, left the glass, and slumped to the couch. He wasn't in the mood to jack off. He'd just drink the damn thing into submission.

He was in deep, with a stranger. Until she'd filled out the rental paperwork, he hadn't even known her last name. Donovan. A wee Irish lass she was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 4:**

Laura had trouble sleeping at first. She was embarrassed and confused. She didn't know what she'd been thinking. _Of course_ he thought she was trying to pay him with sex. Like a whore. After she said she wouldn't do that. After she'd already tried to do exactly that last night. Because she was also a flake. And a fool.

A foolish, flaky, whore. A foolish, flaky, homeless whore. What an appealing package.

She'd gone out there to have sex. She'd gotten Leenie all settled in, then she'd brushed her hair, freshened her deodorant, and brushed her teeth, and gone out to jump his bones. She'd lost her mind.

And she'd wanted it. She still did. Yes, he was a lot older, but he was handsome. Tall and lean, dangerous looking, but also kind. But it wasn't even that. She might have gotten knocked up at 17, which would forever make her a slut in the eyes of her parents, but she wasn't the kind of girl who spread wide for every cute guy she saw. She'd had sex maybe a dozen times since she became a mom. Okay, maybe the fact that half of those were one-offs did make her a slut, but she wasn't really relationship material. In her early twenties, with a kid. She was the kind of girl who got fucked and chucked, even when she was hoping there could be more.

Whatever. It was what it was, and she liked hanging with Leenie, so she mostly didn't mind. Not when things were good, anyway. It would have been nice to have somewhere to turn these past couple of months, though.

Regardless, it didn't explain why she'd thrown herself at Chibs. Because she wasn't trying to pay him back. She _wanted_ him.

That kiss, tender but ardent, had done nothing to cool her off, either. His lips were gentle and firm, and he knew what to do with his tongue. He smelled like leather and tasted like whiskey. His beard had felt amazing on her skin. She'd never kissed a man with a beard before, and it was softer than she'd thought it would be.

He'd been hard, very hard, and the swell pressing against her had not been small. Remembering the thrill she'd felt in his arms, Laura shook herself and pulled the pillow over her face.

She'd found him attractive since she'd taken a good, calm look at him while he was making breakfast, but that didn't explain it either. She hadn't felt turned on then, just appreciative. He'd been acting more like a dad than a guy looking to bed her. Well, not _her_ dad, who was a judgmental prick who hadn't really liked her from the day she'd started to have boobs, but the kind of dad she'd always thought would be nice to have. Her daddy issues weren't the kind that led her to find fatherly types attractive. More like the opposite, actually.

But seeing him sit with Leenie earlier, watching _Finding Nemo_ on cable, something had changed. Leenie had almost zero experience with men. Her father didn't know she existed, and Laura kept her clear of her very occasional dates. Her little girl tended to be shy with strangers in general, so there was no accounting for the way she'd taken to Chibs.

In the almost-five years that Laura had been a mom, she had introduced Leenie to two men. Both had been friendly but obviously uncomfortable—one had been more like obviously terrified—and both had disappeared shortly thereafter. She was always forthright about having a kid, and she'd been careful not to bring anybody home until it felt like something real was happening. After the second guy, she just stopped looking for anything real and never brought anybody home again. She instead had rare one-night stands at the guy's place, or, twice, in a car, when she needed sex and could afford and find a sitter. If that made her a slut, oh well.

Seeing Chibs with Leenie—just comfortable, both of them, watching Nemo—she blushed to remember how wet she'd gotten. She could tell that Chibs wasn't being nice to Leenie for Laura's benefit. After a quick look, clearly asking if it was okay, Chibs paid Laura almost no attention. Leenie settled in, and he put his arms around her. Laura watched from the corner of her eye, and she about died when she saw him tip his head to rest on her daughter's.

Clean. Good cook. Handsome. Kind. And legitimately nice to her kid. Dear God. She was apparently the kind of girl who got hot at the thought of a provider. She supposed that made a kind of sense, especially now. But Chibs had been right, probably, to turn her away. She wanted him—she was achy even now with want—but she wasn't really in a place to make good choices about things like that. People in desperate straits should limit their decisions to food, shelter, and work.

All of which Chibs had solved for her.

Her eyes filling with tears, and her core throbbing, Laura shoved the pillow back under her head, rolled to her side, pulled the blankets up to her chin, and tried to sleep. The comfort of Chib's bed overwhelmed her turmoil, and she dropped off to a sleep almost as peaceful as her daughter's, sleeping next to her.

-oOo-

The next morning was much like the one before. The kiss was not mentioned. Chibs made breakfast, and Laura helped a little. He'd run to the store at some point, and there was milk and fruit. This time, Laura asked for milk in her coffee.

Leenie seemed almost completely better. She came out of the room, went to the bathroom, and then straight into the kitchen, without calling for Laura. It occurred to Laura that she had not had an accident since they'd been with Chibs. When she stood next to the table, where Laura and Chibs were already eating, Chibs held out his arm—he didn't even seem to think about it, just did it—and Leenie tucked in and leaned against him. Laura felt that throb again and shook it off. Just because he was nice to her baby didn't mean he had any interest in getting saddled with a young family. And also—he was twice her age. What could they possibly have in common? Plus? Just met him. Why was she sitting here considering his viability as a partner? That was crazy. She was crazy.

Laura and Leenie washed up—Leenie carrying dishes over one at a time—while Chibs took a shower. After everything was tidied up, Leenie went and brought a book from her little pack, and they were sitting on the couch reading _Cinder Edna_ when Chibs came out, dressed all in black, his wet hair combed straight back. Yeah, he was handsome. Definitely.

"Far as I know, I don't have to go in today. Your interview's at 11, so we have a couple of hours. There's a park a couple of blocks down. Would Eileen like that?" He was looking at Leenie when he asked that last question.

She slid off Laura's lap. "Are there swings?"

Chibs' eyebrows went up. Laura was pretty shocked, too. It was the first full sentence Leenie had spoken in a week or more. And the first time she'd spoken at all to Chibs.

He squatted down in front of her. "Aye, pretty lass, there are swings. A slide, too. And a jungle gym, if I remember right."

"You talk like Shrek."

Holy shit. Laura snorted before she could stop herself. Not the sexiest sound on the planet, but Chibs looked at her, his smile wide and his dimples deep. Then he looked back at her girl. "Is that bad, you think?"

Leenie shook her head. "No. I like Shrek. He's the hero, but you're not supposed to think so at first."

"Well, then, I thank you for the compliment." He stood and held out his hand. "Up for a walk?"

Laura watched, stunned, pleased, and a little bit scared, as Leenie nodded and took Chibs' hand.

-oOo-

The interview went really well. She got the job, and the manager, a guy named Tom, actually gave her the little training spiel and had her fill out paperwork before she left. The hours and pay were a lot better than she'd expected. It all felt like it had been a done deal before she'd walked in, as if Chibs had worked some kind of magic.

Three days ago, she and Leenie were living in the piece of shit station wagon that had been her parents' and that she'd been driving since she was 16, her parents had told her they wouldn't take them in, and she'd had no earthly idea how to make anything better.

Today, she had an apartment and a job that would pay rent and bills. The only problem left was affordable daycare. If Leenie had been just a couple of months older, she'd be in kindergarten this year, and daycare would have been easy. But a November birthday meant one more year before school.

A November birthday that was coming up soon. Laura let herself entertain the idea that she might actually be able to do something nice for it. They'd spent her own birthday in the Taurus.

Things would be tight. But assuming daycare worked out, the job would cover living expenses, and she'd be able to pay Chibs back a little at a time. She wouldn't be saving much, and they wouldn't be eating fancy, but she felt like she was peeking out of the darkness and discovering that the sun still shone.

She pulled the Taurus up in front of Chibs' apartment. She could not _wait_ to be able to clean the heap out. It smelled like people had been living in it for weeks and weeks. Imagine that.

When she got to the door, she paused. Should she knock? Should she just walk in? She didn't know. It wasn't her place. But if she knocked, would he think that was weird? Could he think it was offensive? She stood there, paralyzed by indecision.

And then the door opened. "Mommy!" Leenie came through the door and pulled on her purse, leading her into the apartment. Chibs was standing back a bit. "I read Chibs about the Vel'teen Bunny I told him Mr. Snuffles is like the Vel'teen Bunny because he's a bunny and he got all floppy and his eye fell out and that's what makes him special and someday he'll be a real bunny like the Vel'teen Bunny and then he'll go away but it'll be good because he'll be happy with the real bunnies and make baby bunnies." She looked up at her with wide eyes. "He didn't ever know about the Vel'teen Bunny before but I read him the story and now he does."

Leenie "reading" was mostly her showing the pictures and saying the story she'd known by heart for years. She was reading some words, but not nearly enough to really read _The Velveteen Rabbit_. It said a lot, though, that she'd shared her favorite book with Chibs.

_That_ was her Leenie. That happy chatterbox. Laura felt tears coming on again, and she coughed. She'd read somewhere that coughing was a way to stop crying. She'd put that theory to the test countless times recently. It worked pretty often. Sometimes, though, the need to cry was just too much. "That sounds great, bug. I'm glad you told him—that's important to know."

"Yeah!"

She set her bag on the floor. "Have you had a nap yet, though?" Leenie looked at the floor, and Chibs laughed.

"I suspect a wee little lassie pulled a trick on me, then."

Laura knelt down and looked at her girl. "A trick, or a lie?" Leenie's head dropped farther. It was tough to parent in the situation they'd been in, and Laura never knew whether to let things slide because good lord, they were living in a damn car, or keep to the schedule and rules. She'd worked hard to keep some modicum of a schedule, so every afternoon, she'd found a safe place to park so that Leenie could stretch out on the back seat and sleep. And lying was a big rule. Leenie had learned about lying a year or so ago, and for awhile, she'd been an avid researcher of the topic.

"Ach, just a little trick," chimed in Chibs. "Right, pretty lass?"

"No, it was a lie. I told you I don't take naps but I do and it's a lie when you say something that isn't real. Sorry, Mommy."

"You didn't lie to me, bug." She turned her around to face Chibs.

"Sorry, Chibs. Are you still my friend even though I lied?"

Still on her knees, Laura looked up at Chibs. His expression—well, she couldn't quite name it, but it touched her. She watched him squat in front of her daughter and take her little hand. "Aye, pretty. I'm happy to be your friend. It's a hard thing to admit a mistake. You're a good lass." He kissed her hand, and Leenie giggled.

Laura was really scared now. This was—it was a lot. Two days. Not even two whole days they'd known him. She felt like things were out of control. So many good things had happened in the past two days. So much saving. But now her girl was getting caught up, and there was no reason to think that Chibs would be in their life after they got the apartment on Tuesday. What would Leenie do if her new friend went away—or worse, was somebody they saw at the mailbox just often enough to be sad they didn't see him more?

She stood. "Okay, bug. Let's wash up and do that nap." She held out her hand, and Leenie let go of Chibs and went to her.

-oOo-

She'd lain with Leenie until the nap happened, and for a little while after that. Thinking. Now that she was feeling less desperate, now that she felt like she and her girl might be okay, she needed to get her head on straight about Chibs. He was a stranger. A kind—very kind—stranger to whom she owed more than she could ever repay, but a stranger. She didn't even know his name.

She eased off the bed and went out to the living room. Chibs wasn't there. He wasn't in the kitchen, and she'd passed the open bathroom on her way down the hall. She peeked through the blinds on the living room window and saw him standing on the walk, looking out over the parking lot, smoking. She went out.

"Hey—I didn't know you smoked."

He dropped the half-smoked cigarette and crushed it out under his boot. "Not inside. Stinks everything up. She sleeping?"

"Yep, like a log. You didn't have to put that out, you know."

He shrugged. "How'd it go with Tom?"

"Great—got the job. I start on Friday. I think we're going to be okay. I'll never be able to thank you enough, Chibs. You turned everything around for us."

"I'm happy to help, love."

She took a breath for courage. "Can we talk?"

He gave her a look, but then he nodded. "'Course." There were two cheap plastic patio chairs on the walk in front of the next apartment; Chibs got them and brought them nearer his door. "Have a seat." She sat, and then he did. "What's on your mind?"

Best to jump in before she let self-doubt run amok. She'd prepared a speech while she lay with Leenie. "You've done all these amazing things for us and made it so I can take care of my girl, and geez, just having a bed to sleep in and a reliable bathroom seems to have brought her back to herself. Chibs, it means so much. I want you to know that it means so much. I'm astounded by how lucky we are that you were in that store."

His eyes were serious. "But…"

"No, it's not a but, not really. It's …" She looked at her watch. "In about six hours, we will have known each other for two days. In that time, you've made a huge impact on me, and on Leenie. You've given us so much. But we—well, all we've done is take. It's all we can do right now. And I need to have you be straight with me. I don't want to put you on the spot, and whatever your answer is, I really will be cool with it, I promise. I just need to know before … Leenie gets in too deep …" She stopped. She didn't know how to ask.

"You need to know what, lass?"

With another breath for courage, Laura asked the simplest question she had. "Are you a friend? Will you be somebody we see, after we take the apartment? If not, if this is you doing a good deed and moving on with your life, that is so totally cool. Really. I just need to know so I can talk to Leenie about it."

Looking out over the parking lot, he replied without turning. "Is that what you want—me to move on?"

She answered readily. "No. I'd like us to be friends. But I'd understand, and either way, I'm so grateful to you."

Now he turned to her, leaning back in his chair. "Do you know what I am?"

"You mean a biker? Well, yeah." The leather vest with the patches on it kinda gave it away. Not to mention the big Harley parked nearby.

But he shook his head. "Not just a biker. A Son. It's not a quiet life. Fair quiet at the moment, but it's often chaos. I do bad things, love. I'm a hard man. The life is hard and dark, and I live it alone, but for me brothers." He held her eyes with his, as if waiting for her to say something.

She didn't answer. She wasn't sure what he meant her to say.

"You're wrong when you say you only take. I truly don't know why I helped you Friday night. Were someone to ask why I've done what I've done this weekend, I wouldn't have an answer they'd understand. I'd probably deck 'em for being a meddlesome bastard. But I've felt better these past two days than I have in a long time. I like your company. I like your wee lass. It's done me good to help you. You've given me that." He sighed. "You asked if I'm a friend. Aye. I am. And I hope you are."

"Definitely." Friend was good. It was enough. Laura thought it would be enough. Anything more would be confusing. So she pushed away the urge to say more.

"That's good, then." He grinned.

"Chibs? What's your name?"

He laughed. "Filip. Filip Telford."

"Well, it's nice to meet you." She held out her hand.

He took it and lifted it to his lips. "Likewise. Call me Chibs. All me friends do."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 5:**

"Got a minute, Gem?"

Chibs stood in the doorway to the garage office, wiping his hands on a shop towel. Gemma looked up from her paperwork. "Sure, baby. What's up?"

"Wondering if you know of a good daycare, cheap as possible."

The best way to handle Gemma was head on; her bullshit detector was top-notch. Still, he'd managed to surprise her. She looked at him over her reading glasses, her eyebrows sky high. "Something you want to tell me?"

"Not really, no." He knew she wouldn't let it drop, but it would be a delight if she did. Gemma had been old lady to the first two SAMCRO Presidents, and she was mother to Jax, the third and current President. She wasn't any Son's old lady any longer, and Tara, Jax's wife, was now queen, but Chibs thought Gemma would be a fixture with the Sons until she died. In addition to running the garage office, she still managed the girls and ran the clubhouse; Tara had no patience for it, nor did Viv or Frank, the other old ladies.

As he expected, she wasn't going to let it drop. She stood and walked around the desk. "You know that's not how I work, darlin'. If you need something from me, you gotta tell me why. You get careless and wind yourself up with a kid?" She crossed her arms and sat on the edge of her desk.

He took a couple of steps into the office. "Gem. When have you ever known me to be careless about anything? It's for a friend."

Gemma stood back up and put her hand on Chibs' arm. "Come on, baby. Sit and talk with me." She tugged on his work shirt, and he let her lead him to the cheap vinyl couch under the window. "A friend? One I don't know? Doesn't smell right to me. Fiona know about this?"

"Not her concern." He hadn't said anything to anyone yet about Fee's refusal to leave Ireland, and what amounted to an outright rejection of him.

"How's she going to feel about your new 'friend' when she gets here?"

He sighed. They were going to have the whole thing out, it seemed. "She's not coming, Gem. She won't leave Ireland, and she don't want me."

Gem could be a real bitch if you crossed her, and everybody in the clubhouse knew she was an inveterate schemer, but he loved her. She loved her Sons. Even at her worst, she was only trying to take care; he really believed that. And she was fierce in defense of those she loved. Now, she put her arm over his shoulders. "Oh, baby. I'm so sorry. When you got that visa, I was sure she'd come."

"Aye." He shrugged. "Don't matter. I'm not helping that kind of friend. Just a girl that needs some kindness is all."

"How do you know her?"

"Gem…"

"Look, baby. I can help. My friend Neeta is running a home daycare now, and I can see if she has room for one more. How old is this kid, anyway?"

"She's four."

"Four? A little girl? She's not much younger than Kerrianne was when—"

Chibs sat abruptly forward, shaking his head. "No, Gem. Don't."

Gemma didn't say anything, and Chibs looked over his shoulder. She was staring at him, her expression sharp. Then she nodded. "If I'm gonna call Neeta, I need to know what I'm asking her. I need something about this girl and her mom."

Chibs sat quietly. It felt somehow disloyal to Laura to tell Gemma anything about her. And, sitting there, he realized that he hardly knew anything himself. He didn't know why they'd ended up living in that station wagon, or why she hadn't had anywhere to go. None of that had seemed very important during the weekend.

Finally, he sat back. "I don't know much. I only just met her on Friday. She was in some dire straits and needed a kindness. I'm helping her. That's all I can tell you, Gem."

Her eyes narrow and appraising, Gemma said, "Okay, I'll go to the source. Where can I find this street urchin?"

He stared at her; she met and held his gaze with pure resolve. Gemma would probably scare the fuck out of Laura. "Not a good idea."

"I'm not asking Neeta to help somebody I don't know, Chibs. Somebody _you_ don't know, either. Period."

He sucked on the scar inside his left cheek for a moment, thinking. He'd need to warn Laura, that was sure. He stood and went to the desk, grabbing a pen and the scratch pad by the phone. "She just moved into a flat at me place this morning. She should be around, I guess. She doesn't start working till Friday." He wrote her name and apartment number on the pad.

Gemma was standing now, too, next to him. She looked over his shoulder as he wrote. "New apartment, new job? That you?"

"Aye. Like I said, I'm helping."

"That's a lot of help. And you're not fucking her?"

One should never expect Gemma to mince words. Part of her charm. Chibs smiled and shook his head. "It's not like that."

"Uh-huh. Right." She tore the sheet he'd written on off the pad. "Okay. I'll go see Neeta today, see if she even has room. Then I'll have a chat with your friend"—she looked down at the paper—"Laura. See what we can work out."

Chibs pulled Gemma close and gave her an affectionate hug. "Thanks, Mama. I owe you."

"Yeah, baby, you do." With a kiss to his cheek, she pushed him off and sent him back to the garage.

-oOo-

The garage was slammed. Most of it was routine—oil changes, tire rotations, smog inspections. But on top of that, there were two huge repair jobs, and one of the bays was taken up with a Harley rebuild, its current state more of an unbuild. Everybody was working nonstop. Chibs never got around to calling Laura.

Didn't mean he wasn't thinking about her. All day, shoulder deep in whatever filthy engine he was working on, he was thinking about Laura and Eileen—her mum called her Leenie, but he had a sense that was a private name; besides, he loved the name Eileen—and wondering how they were doing, getting set up in their new place. He'd felt morose this morning, when they'd packed up the few things they'd had in his flat and driven over to the other side. He'd offered to help unpack the Taurus, but she'd kissed his cheek and said they'd be fine, then sent him off to work.

He didn't like his flat without them. Too empty. He thought it had even echoed.

He didn't like where his head was, though. He'd gotten wrapped up far too quickly, and he needed to back off. They were friends, and that was good. He was glad of it. But not all his thoughts about Laura were merely friendly. She was young, and he was not. He needed to let her get on about rebuilding her life.

When the garage closed and Chibs was putting his tools away, Tig came up behind him. "You're drinking tonight, right? You didn't turn into a monk or something, right? Cuz—don't get me wrong, I'm okay with having my pick of the girls lately, but it depresses the fuck outta me how many guys are going home to their women every night."

Tig was about a year out of a crazily intense relationship that had almost brought the whole damn club down. Literally. Leave it to Tiggy to hook up with the kind of woman who could accomplish destruction of that magnitude. They'd ended badly, and he'd been a shell for a long time. A month or so ago, he'd started plowing through the girls again, back to his old tricks but—if such were even possible—even wilder.

Chibs slid the drawer shut on his tools and turned the lock. He wasn't really in the mood for the drunk that came with sitting down with Tig. But he thought about his empty flat, and he shrugged. "'Course, brother."

Tig laughed. "My man! Let's get to it!"

The clubhouse was full for the first couple of rounds—Jax, Hap, Bobby, Phil, and even Juice, who hadn't been much of a drinker for the past couple of years, joined Tig and Chibs. Butch, their brand-new Prospect, was behind the bar, pouring generously. Pep and Joey, the youngest patches, were nowhere to be found. Both had themselves new girls, on the steady side, civilian girls; both were in the pink of their relationships, when they were still trying to do nice things for their ladies. They were probably on actual dates.

For the best. There were quite a few girls hanging around tonight. More than usual for a Tuesday, Chibs thought. Pep's cock had a tendency to jump out of his drawers and go looking for trouble, so he was better off making his new lady happy.

The chatter around the bar was limited to mundane shite about the garage or gossip of the local and the club varieties. Things had been calm with the club for a while, so gossip and bikes was mostly what they had to talk about.

By the fourth round, Tig, Phil, and Chibs were on their own; the family men had gone home, as had Bobby. By the sixth, Phil had himself one of the meatier 'Eaters and was sprawled over one of the leather couches, getting very large, loud head. Tig had wandered off to the pool table, and he was feeling up a couple girls. Chibs was alone at the bar. Butch had been pouring into the big glasses, and Chibs was dipping into his second bottle of Jameson.

Butch was casting longing looks over Chibs' shoulder. Chibs turned around and saw a new girl, one whose name he didn't know, smiling at Butch. Ah, young lust. "Leave the bottle, laddie. Go ahead and dip your dick."

"You sure, Chibs?"

"Aye. Been pouring me own whiskey since I was small. Go on." Butch grinned and went around the bar to the girl.

With nothing else to entertain his thoughts, Chibs let them roam to Laura and Eileen. Eileen. She was a sweet little lass. He'd truly enjoyed the time they'd been alone together while Laura interviewed at the sandwich shop. Once she'd decided to talk again, she wouldn't stop. And she was a smart little spitfire, chock full of earnest opinions.

Every time she took his hand, or relaxed into his lap, or otherwise demonstrated affection and, well, _trust_ for him, he felt a pain in a corner of his heart—the atrophied corner where he'd once been a father. He'd shut Gemma down this afternoon because she was about to voice a connection he'd already made. He knew full well that there was only a couple of years' difference between the age Eileen was and the age Kerrianne had been when Jimmy O had displaced him at the head of his own family and exiled him from Ireland. He didn't need a headshrinker to know why he was so smitten with the wee thing.

He'd seen his own daughter one time—only once—since then. Sure, he talked to her as often as he could on the phone, especially since Jimmy O was dead, but she'd never wanted to come to the States, even for a visit, and getting back to Ireland was all kinds of complicated for him. He hadn't really been her father since she was small. Jimmy, the vile bastard, had been her da in all the important ways.

Shite, he was depressed. He dropped his head onto his crossed arms on the bar.

Sometime later, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and saw Bonnie, a sweet thing he often spent time with. She had short, curly, dark hair and nice light brown eyes. She wasn't a great beauty, but she had good curves, a good laugh, and enthusiasm. "Hey, Chibs. You're sitting here all alone. Mind some company?"

He sat up. Company sounded like a brilliant idea. Just what he needed to clear out his head. "Not at all, lass. What're you drinking?"

"Not that thirsty right now. Got anything else for me?" She reached down to his lap and grabbed his crotch. He filled out into her grip. "Oh, you definitely do."

"Aye, lass. That I do." He stood, the room tipping only slightly, and did a quick head count. Looked like the apartment would be free. "Come along, me Bonnie lass." She laughed.

He never did make it back to his empty flat.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

**Chapter 6:**

The day Laura and Leenie moved into the studio apartment was the best day Laura could remember having in a very long time. Unloading the station wagon was like unloading the universe from her back

It wasn't much—just one room and a bathroom, with a very small kitchen in the corner of the main room. The furniture wasn't much, either. There was a daybed, which served as a bed by night and a sofa by day. It had a trundle, so there was plenty of room for Leenie, too. The kitchen area had a narrow range, a small refrigerator, and a short counter around the sink. A couple of cabinets on the wall and under the sink, and enough dishes and cookware to suffice for two people. There was a little café table with two chairs, a coffee table, and a biggish dresser with a TV and DVD player on top. It was an interior apartment, so there was only one window, a good-size one, right next to the front door.

Just about the most beautiful place Laura had ever seen.

They'd had furniture. They'd had a TV, a DVR, and a DVD player. Laura had had a computer—an old desktop, but one that worked and had broadband. She'd never thought they'd had much stuff, but now, when they had so much less, she realized that they'd been doing pretty well.

She'd sold everything that wouldn't fit in the Taurus. What she couldn't sell before they'd been thrown out, she'd left behind. She'd taken as much of Leenie's stuff as she could and only what she herself really needed. Of everything she'd left behind, her books were her greatest loss. Boxes and boxes of books. Every book she'd ever bought or been given in her whole life, except for four she couldn't make herself part with. She tried not to dwell on the loss.

She and Leenie occupied themselves happily on Tuesday unpacking and setting up their house. She set Leenie up at the little table with her crayons and construction paper, making pictures for the walls, and went out to clean the trash from the car. She'd never been so happy to do a gross chore in her life.

That afternoon, they went to the market and bought groceries. Later, Laura made Leenie's favorite dinner: peanut butter and jam sandwiches (Leenie had picked blackberry), orange wedges, and boxed macaroni and cheese, with big glasses of milk. They sat on the daybed and watched _Mulan_ while they ate. Laura had brought Leenie's DVDs with them.

Laura was happy. She couldn't believe it, but she was. She'd spent the whole day on the verge of happy tears, jumpy with the need to hug Chibs. And now, even better, she felt calm. She'd forgotten calm. She was really hoping Chibs would stop by in the evening, but he didn't. That was okay. He hadn't said he would, and she hadn't asked him to. She'd just been hoping.

After Leenie was tucked in for the night and sleeping, Mr. Snuffles firmly in hand, Laura sat at the table and, by the dim, golden glow of the light over the sink, she opened her journal and wrote.

-oOo-

The next day, after breakfast and a trip to the park down the street, Laura set Leenie up with her crayons again. She sat next to her and did some research on her phone—her only access to the internet. It wasn't a fancy phone, just a prepaid kind, but it could get online. Laura needed to find daycare, and right away. Her first shift at the sandwich shop started at 9:30 Friday morning.

Chibs had said he could help with that, like he'd helped with everything, but she didn't want to lean on him so hard. She wasn't going to bring daycare up again, so she needed to try to work something out on her own. Anyway, she hadn't talked to him since yesterday morning, and she was beginning to wonder if he hadn't had second thoughts about being friends.

After a couple of hours, Leenie was starting to look for lunch, and the haze of bliss Laura had been feeling since they moved in yesterday morning had faded. She'd called what seemed like all the daycare centers in Charming. Most didn't have space. The ones that had space she couldn't afford. Some of those had assistance programs for residents, but she hadn't been here long enough to establish residency. She needed to work to afford daycare. She needed daycare to work. She was caught in the very familiar catch-22 of the working poor.

She shook it off and put her phone down. "Hey, bug. I made hard-boiled eggs. You want those and some grapes for lunch?"

Leenie looked up from her Barbies. She'd made a construction-paper house for Barbie and her friends. It was pretty good, actually. "Yes please and toast with blackberry jam and milk."

Laura probably wouldn't be able to sell a cookbook of the meals she fed Leenie, but she thought she usually hit the food pyramid the right way. "You got it."

Shortly after lunch, there was a knock on her door. Laura smiled—it had to be Chibs. No one else knew where she lived. No one else cared where she lived. She got up and hurried to the door, her smile growing.

That smile faded right away. It wasn't Chibs. She didn't know who this was. A tall, older woman—older than Chibs. At first glance, though, Laura knew that this woman knew him. Despite her age, which Laura was guessing was around 60 or so, she was wearing skin-tight jeans, sky-high black boots, a snug black knit top with lots of cutouts and a deep neckline. Tons of jewelry, heavy makeup, big hair—dark, with heavy highlights. She had faded ink on her forearm—flowers—and on her chest—a bird of some kind. The woman screamed biker babe. Faded biker babe.

She just didn't know why she was standing at her door. Was this Chibs' girlfriend or something? Maybe his ex-wife, or whatever? Whoever she was, "friendly" wasn't a word that jumped out.

Laura stepped out onto the walkway and pulled the door to behind her. "Hi. Can I help you?"

"You Laura?"

Definitely not friendly. Laura was pissed. Who was this woman, knocking at her door, being all rude? "Let's start with who you are instead."

The woman raised her eyebrows like she was surprised Laura wasn't quaking in her sneakers. "I'm Gemma. Friend of Chibs. You Laura, his new 'friend'?" She was standing akimbo, her manicured fingers drumming on her hips.

Laura had never heard quotation marks uttered so obviously before. She tried not to make snap judgments about people, since she knew how much it sucked when people made snap judgments about her, but she'd already decided that she _really_ didn't like this tacky, overdone woman. "Is there something you want?"

"I think I made it clear that I want your name, darlin'."

"And I should tell you because..?"

She huffed impatiently. "Because if you're Laura, Chibs says you got a kid and need daycare, and I know a good daycare. So maybe you want to invite me in."

98% of the muscles in Laura's body were poised to duck back into the apartment and slam the door in this woman's face. The other 2% were tapping her on the shoulder and reminding her that she'd just spent hours trying to find daycare for a job she would start in less than two days. Chibs had said he knew somebody who could help. He hadn't told her he was sending the Queen of the Damned after her.

She sighed. "I'm Laura. Come in." She opened the door and let Gemma in. For the first time since she'd met him, Laura was angry at Chibs.

"Have a seat." She indicated the daybed. "Can I get you something to drink?" Why on earth she was offering this woman hospitality, she didn't know. The deep roots of her mother's manners indoctrination, she supposed.

"No, thanks." Gemma nodded toward Leenie, who had looked up and then simply gone back to her dolls. "She's real pretty. Looks just like you. What's her name?"

"Eileen." She went over to Leenie. "Hey, bug. Come over and meet Miss Gemma." Leenie got up and went over, shy but polite, holding out her hand the whole way. Gemma shook it and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Gemma."

"Nice to meet you, too, Eileen. Playing dolls?"

"Yes I builded her a house."

"I see that. It's a nice house."

"Thanks I builded it. I'm going to play now." Leenie released Gemma's hand and went back to her dolls. Laura decided that exchange was worth a degree of thaw in her feelings about Gemma.

They sat on the daybed. "She seems like a sweetheart."

"Thanks. She is. About this daycare?" Laura didn't have any intention of chatting with this woman.

Gemma cocked her head. "Right. I have a friend; she used to nanny my grandsons. Now she's running a home daycare. I talked to her, and she could take one more. Her rates are good. I'm not gonna ask her to give you a discount, because she needs to earn a living like everybody else, but her rates are good." She crossed her arms and looked Laura over. "She won't take your girl on unless you all meet first. But before we do that, I need to make sure I'm not bringing over some"—her eyes darted to Leenie and then back to Laura, and she dropped her voice—"junkie gash who'll do nothing but give her a world of trouble. So you need to tell me your story."

Laura was so angry she thought she might cry. That was the very last thing she wanted to do, so she cleared her throat and willed the urge away. It was stuff like this that was the worst part about what had happened to them. No, not really. Not knowing if she could feed her little girl. Not being able to get her to a doctor when she was sick. That was the worst part. But not being able to throw an awful woman like this out—instead seriously considering telling her what she wanted to know, because she had something important Laura needed—it sucked plenty. Between the need to throw Gemma out and the need to get daycare for Leenie right away, Laura's tongue was tied.

Then Gemma surprised her. Her whole body relaxed, and she smiled. She was like a different person. "Look, sweetheart. I guess I came on strong, and we got off on the wrong foot. I get protective with my boys, and what Chibs is doing for you has me worried. We don't know you, and I don't want him taken advantage of. But your girl is sweet, and you seem like you've got some spine to you. How old are you, honey? 24, 25?"

Laura gave up. "23."

Gemma's eyebrows went up. "You had her young. That's a lot. That's hard, being on your own with a little one. Looks like you're raising her up good, though."

Feeling dizzy from the personality turnabout, Laura asked, "What is it you want to know?"

Crossing her legs and swinging a tall boot, Gemma said, "How you ended up in Charming needing help, and how you met Chibs. Highlights."

Laura looked over at Leenie. "Hey, ladybug. Miss Gemma and I need to talk. I'll put a movie in and then we're going to go right outside, okay? Which movie do you want?" She stood.

"Dora!" Leenie jumped up and grabbed Mr. Snuffles. She climbed up on the daybed, not minding that Gemma was still sitting there.

When Laura had the DVD going, she and Gemma went to stand on the walkway. It wasn't the ideal place to tell her sad story, but it would have to do. She wasn't going to tell it in the bathroom, and that was the only room with a door.

Gemma crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. Laura wished there were chairs out here like there were on the first floor, but no luck. So she leaned against the railing, facing Gemma and the door, and told her story. She wanted to keep to highlights—more like lowlights—only, but she also wanted this woman, dangling daycare like a carrot, to understand. She felt sick.

"I was a department manager at a mall store. I had a little rented house, and we were doing okay. The general manager of the store liked me. Started with flirting, then asking me on dates, stuff like that. He was annoying, but he backed off whenever I pushed him away, so I thought he was harmless. One day he cornered me in the staff lounge. He kissed me and tried to go up my dress. When I got upset, he backed off, like always, but this time, he'd scared me, so I reported him to the district manager. A week later I was fired for stealing. I hadn't stolen anything, but they found $500 worth of cosmetics in my bag. The bag I kept locked in my locker in the staff lounge. The general manager had keys for all the staff lockers.

"Anyway, getting fired for stealing pretty much aces you out of working retail, which is the only kind of experience I have. Any job is hard to come by these days. And I would have worked any job." Gemma gave her a look, and Laura revised. "Any _legit_ job. Couldn't find anything—didn't really matter, because ten days after I got fired, the bank repossessed the house I was renting. I had a week's notice from my landlord, and then we were on the streets. Which almost had an upside, because the guy who'd gotten me fired was starting to park on my street and watch my house."

"Oh, honey. That's bad. I'm real sorry." Gemma was truly moved; Laura could see it. But she didn't want this woman's pity. She shrugged.

"We lived in my car since then. I tried to find someplace to go, but didn't have any luck. I was in a store here on Friday, trying to use the phone, but the guy working behind the counter wouldn't let me. Chibs lent me his phone. That's how we met. That's the story—highlights, or whatever." She hesitated, then added, "Chibs doesn't know most of this. It would nice if I could tell him my story myself." She hadn't felt comfortable enough to tell him yet. It made her feel naked and ill to have told this woman so much. Laura hoped it was worth it.

Nodding, Gemma pushed off the wall and stood with her hands on her hips again. "Fair enough. That's a hard story, darlin'. Hard to be strong and straight with all that going on. Even with all that, no drugs, no turning tricks? Pretty thing like you, rack like that, you could do okay, pay the bills."

Laura felt dizzy with loathing for the bitch, but she answered. "Not that it's any of your business, but no. I don't have sex for money, and I've never even smoked cigarettes. I barely drink."

For some reason, Gemma thought that answer was funny—hilarious, in fact. She was laughing hard, and Laura found a new depth to her sense of offense. "Oh, sweetheart. You are in for a rude awakening if you start something up with Chibs."

"We're just friends." She crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

"Right. That's what he says, too. I don't buy it. Seeing his mopey face, and now getting a load of you and your girl, I don't buy it at all. But that's between you two. I will tell you this, honey. Chibs is married. His wife is a cold bitch who hasn't been with him for, shit, fifteen years or more, but he's still married. And he's Catholic, so that's not gonna change. You might think about that before either of you decides 'friends' isn't enough."

Again with the audible quotation marks. Laura didn't know what to say to any of that. She felt a small little hurt in her stomach, actually, but she wasn't about to let on to Gemma that she was any kind of disappointed. So she just shrugged again.

Gemma nodded like she knew exactly what that shrug meant. "Okay, darlin', let's go meet with Neeta."

"Um—what?" Seriously, all these twists and turns were making Laura nauseated.

"You need daycare, and you need it now, right? I'm not sending you over there without me, so I'll take you and Eileen, and we'll go talk to Neeta."

And that's what they did. Feeling like she was operating outside of her body, Laura got Leenie's booster out of the back seat of the Taurus, studiously ignoring Gemma's sneer at the state of her car, and settled Leenie in the back of a huge, pristine, Cadillac Escalade.

Three hours later, daycare arranged, Gemma dropped them home and zoomed off to assist her next victim.

-oOo-

The daybed was all made out into a decently comfortable bed, and Laura and Leenie were snuggled together reading bedtime stories when there was another knock on the door. After the tornado that was Gemma, Laura was less excited to answer. She hadn't heard from Chibs—almost two days now. He'd kept his promise about daycare, but it seemed like he was done with them. Well, at least it hadn't gone any farther than a long weekend, and at least he'd been a gentleman, even when she hadn't been a lady.

She scooted off the bed and answered the door, leaving the security chain engaged. It was Chibs. She didn't take the chain off.

"Evening, lass. Just wanted to check on you and the little one. Can I come in?"

Laura didn't think that was a good idea. She was hurt and angry. Probably more than she had a right to be—definitely more than she had a right to be—but she wasn't in the mood to feel bad about that. "I'm putting Eileen to bed right now."

"Oh." He stood there, looking awkward. "Sorry."

"Chibs! I made pictures and Mommy put them on the walls!" Leenie was right behind her. Laura sighed and closed the door so she could release the chain. She opened it and let him in.

Good lord. He had flowers, a little bouquet of yellow sweetheart roses. He handed them to her with a half smile. "Housewarming."

She smiled when she took them; she couldn't help it. It was a sweet and almost silly thing for him to do. "Thanks." She went to the kitchenette, filled a drinking glass with water, and put the flowers in the glass. She set the glass in the middle of the table. When she looked back, Leenie was leading Chibs around the room, explaining to him the pictures she'd drawn, now taped all over the walls. She'd been a busy little artist.

He was making all the right comments and showing all the right interest. When they'd done the tour, Leenie climbed up on the bed and picked up the book they'd been reading: _Olivia._ "Mommy was reading this but then you came and we didn't finish so you could finish if you wanted." She held the book up to Chibs and then, when he took it, sat back where they'd been sitting, near the pillows.

On their bed. Laura didn't want Chibs on their bed. Or, she did, but not like that. Or—oh, geez, she had no idea. It just felt weird and made her stomach flip. Chibs looked over at her, but she didn't have an answer. Leenie was sitting there waiting for him, and Laura didn't know what to say. A good mother would know what to say to get out of this situation, but Laura didn't. So she shrugged. She was going to get a cramp from all the shrugging she was doing lately.

Chibs sat down on the bed—he didn't go back to the pillows, though, just sat on the edge and waited for Leenie to scoot over to him—and finished reading _Olivia_. Laura sat at the table, listening and fretting.

When they were finished, Laura tucked Leenie in and dimmed the lights. Then she grabbed Chibs by the sleeve and pulled him out to the walkway, where she apparently had all her serious conversations. The glow from the sodium arc lamps in the parking lot gave everything a surreal aspect.

She didn't even know what she was going to say. She couldn't be mad at him for not being around. They weren't his responsibility. She couldn't even be mad at him for Gemma, because that bizarre experience had yet again saved them. She couldn't be mad at him for being married, because who the hell was she to him? But she was mad at him, just the same, for all of it. And, again, tongue tied.

She didn't have to worry. He started. "Gemma told me you got daycare sorted today. I meant to call to warn you about her. She's something you need to prepare for. Like a hurricane."

"The word I thought of was tornado, but yeah. She's interesting, for sure. It would have been nice to know she was coming. But it turned out okay. And thank you, again, for the help. You're our hero."

His brow furrowed a bit with a quizzical look. "You alright, love?"

She supposed she wasn't covering very well. She was trying, but she was tired. "Sure. Just a little bit of a weird day, but sure. Gemma told me you're married." Where the _hell_ had that come from? She couldn't believe she'd said that. She wanted to jump over the railing, but she'd probably only break a leg, and then she'd be even more embarrassed. The embarrassment cleared her lingering anger right away, though.

His brow furrowed more deeply. "Gemma's not one for minding her business. Aye, lass. I'm married."

"I'm so sorry I brought that up. Just … surprised me. Not that I have any right to an opinion."

"S'alright. She lives in Ireland. Always has."

"That's hard. I'm sorry."

He shrugged. Lots of shrugging going on today. "Old wound."

Needing desperately to change the subject, Laura said, "Thank you for the flowers. That was really sweet."

"You're welcome." He took a step toward her and stopped.

He wanted to kiss her. She could feel it, like something in the air. She wanted him to. But she could also feel that he wasn't going to move any closer to her. So she closed the distance.

When she did, he stood up ramrod straight, like a flinch. She put her hands on his chest, under his vest, feeling his muscles twitch under her palms. When she looked up, he was staring down at her, his mouth a taut line. She could hear his breath; it shook. "Chibs, I—"

"No, lass." He picked up her hands in his and brought them to his lips. He kissed each one in turn. "Trying to be a gentleman here."

She had to stop throwing herself at him. He wasn't going to sleep with her, and she was making a fool of herself. She was probably chasing him away, too, losing his friendship, and she didn't want that. Not for her or for Leenie. She stepped back. "Okay. I'm sorry. I won't … do that again, I promise. I hope we'll still see you."

"Aye, you will. G'night, love." He kissed her cheek and walked down the walkway toward the stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Trying to keep the blah blah blah author's notes to a minimum this time, but I want to send out another thanks to all of you reading, reviewing, fave/following. I really, really appreciate it, and I hope I don't let you down.

Thanks, too, to **Simone Santos **and **MuckyShroom**, who are wonderful betas and excellent, Freaky friends. And to _all_ the Freaks—I've never had a better circle of friends. xoxo.

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 7:**

Chibs couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a mall, and he was damn pleased to walk through the exit toward his bike and put this trip in his rearview. Tomorrow was Eileen's fifth birthday. It had been a long time since he'd bought a gift for a girl her age, and he'd been overwhelmed by all the pink everywhere he looked. There was an entire store in there that was nothing but pink, everything with a little white cat on it. Terrifying.

Unfortunately, Eileen loved that little white cat with the bow on its head, so he'd gone in. He'd stood there, having no idea where to start, but the clerk had taken pity on him, and he ended up with a little backpack that they'd filled with markers, crayons, stickers, different pads of paper, and colored glitter. All of it covered in the cat. They did giftwrapping, too. "Hello Kitty" indeed. What a racket.

There had been a more interesting store next to the pink explosion, and Chibs now had a wrapped gift for Laura, too. He wasn't sure why. Maybe some kind of retail-induced psychosis. It wasn't much, but it had made him think of her.

Not that he didn't do that plenty.

They'd been moved into their little studio for a few weeks, and things seemed to be going well. Every time he stopped by, the flat was just a bit nicer. A new coffeemaker. A couple of throw pillows. New books for Eileen. Curtains for the window. They were settling in, and Chibs was glad to see it. Every payday, Laura tried to give him something of what she said she owed him. He always refused. He wanted them completely settled and stable before he'd even consider it. He'd prefer it if she didn't even try. Ever.

Gemma had told him Laura's story. Laura herself had not yet shared it with him—but neither had he asked. It was her story to tell when she was ready. He wasn't sure why she'd told Gemma and not him, but Gemma was a master manipulator, so he suspected she hadn't left Laura with much choice.

Asking Gemma for a favor always came with a catch, and this catch seemed to be a smothering of sarcastic admonitions about the dangers of playing the hero and warnings about the emotional flittings of the average young woman. It was worth her nagging, though, to make sure Eileen had somebody good keeping care of her.

Eileen liked Neeta, who did more than simply mind her charges. She held a little preschool, too, so Eileen was starting to read and even write a little. She had a friend at Neeta's, Hayley, whom she talked about a lot.

Laura seemed to be doing well at the job. It wasn't much of a job, really, but it had her and Eileen on their feet. Chibs liked that she was working so close to T-M—the sandwich shop was a regular lunch stop at the garage. He didn't like that Butch and Gordo, the Prospects, who usually made the lunch runs, had started talking about the hot new blonde with the big rack. Truth was, a lot of the girls who worked that deli ended up Crow Eaters, at least for a little while. Bikers went in, flirted with a girl, invited her to a Friday party, and a week or so later, she was banging whatever Son grabbed her first.

He hadn't really thought that through when he'd set up the job for her. It had simply been the job he'd known was available. In fact, it was likely Tom thought Chibs was setting her up because she was a favorite fuck. Laura hadn't said anything, and he hadn't yet asked, but if he found out Tom was giving her grief over something like that, he'd damn well put an end to it.

He did _not_ want to see Laura showing up at the clubhouse on a Friday night. It would break his heart to see her like that. He didn't think he would. She wasn't a party girl; she preferred being with her little one. But she was young and lovely, and he was sure she'd like some attention. He knew it. She wanted some from him.

Since the night he'd brought her flowers, they seemed to have found the right place to be: friends. Other than a quick peck on the cheek, or a brief hand on an arm in passing, they hadn't touched. They saw each other every second or third day, sharing a meal or taking Eileen to the park. He'd kept Eileen for short spells a couple of times when Laura needed to run a quick errand, and once when she just needed an hour to herself.

Chibs knew that it was the right place to be. It was the smart place to be. She needed a chance to make her life and find someone to be with who could share it. Even if he weren't more than twice her age, all he could do was drag her down into his life. But sometimes, he'd see her looking at him a certain way, and he'd have to clench his fists against the urge to take her into his arms.

So they were friends. And he tried not to dwell on the other feelings, physical and emotional, Laura stirred in him.

-oOo-

Early the next morning, he rapped lightly on Hap and Viv's grilled security door. He had to knock a few times, but then the door opened, and Viv was there, wearing snug, black knit pants and a big SOA t-shirt, holding little Hope in her arms.

"Hey, Chibs." She unlocked the security door and let him in. When he stepped into their foyer, she lifted onto her toes and kissed his cheek. "Morning, baby. You want coffee first?"

"No, thanks, love. I should get going. Hap around?" He took hold of Hope's wee foot, wrapped in purple fleece pajamas, and gave it a little shake. "Morning, pretty." She shyly dropped her head to her mum's shoulder.

"He'll be sleeping last night off for a while yet, I think. They both will." She nodded to the living room. Chibs looked over to see Tig splayed face down, unconscious, on the couch. He hadn't noticed his bike outside.

"Ah. Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Tig was just in one of his moods. Hap talked him down, by which I mean he drank him down. C'mon. I'll get you the keys." She turned and headed toward the kitchen. He followed. Viv sat Hope in her highchair and handed her a cup with a lid on it. Hope took a sip and threw the cup on the floor. The lid came off, and milk spilled.

"Want juice!" Hope, at two, was…strong willed. Chibs crossed the kitchen, grabbed the roll of paper towels, and squatted down to wipe up the mess.

"Thanks, baby." Viv sighed. "So, it's going to be that kind of day, huh, missy? No juice. If you're thirsty, you can have milk." She took the cup and lid that Chibs handed her and put them in the sink. "Do you want _milk_?"

Hope kicked the footrest of her chair. "Appa juice!"

Viv turned to Chibs as he was tossing the used towels. "Let me get you those keys."

"You sure about this, love? Looks like this might be a day you want to be able to get out of the house."

She handed him her keys. "No, baby, it's fine. There's no way little Miss Brattypants is going to get to go anywhere fun if she's acting like this. And I can make Hap go get the club van if we need it. You go have a day off. I hope _you're_ doing something fun."

"Thanks, love. You're tops. I'll have it back first thing in the morning." He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

He drove Viv's SUV back to his complex, swung by his flat to pick up the gifts he'd bought, then parked near Laura's place and trotted upstairs to knock. The door opened right away, and Eileen was standing there, looking adorable in little jeans, pink sneakers, and a yellow sweater with pink bows all over it. Her long, golden hair was done up in two fancy pigtails. Laura was right behind her, also in jeans and a sweater, her hair in identical pigtails.

"Chibs I'm five today! That's my whole hand!"

He bent down and picked her up. "I know! It's a great day. Happy birthday, pretty! You ready for a trip?"

"Yes Mommy said I'm going to see the _ocean_." She'd never seen the ocean, and she'd discovered books about seashells and fish at Neeta's and had become obsessed.

"Aye, the ocean. But first, I've a present for a pretty lass." He'd set the gifts on the walkway before he'd knocked. Now he set her down and picked up the gift wrapped in pink paper and held it out to her. Her eyes got big. Her blues weren't as dark as her mum's, but they were bright and lovely. "Hello Kitty!" She turned to Laura. "Mommy it's Hello Kitty!"

"That's pretty paper, bug. Remember, sometimes the paper isn't the same as what's inside." Chibs breathed a little sigh of relief that it was. Eileen tore through the paper and opened the Hello Kitty gift box. "Look Mommy!" She held up the backpack with a big grin.

"There's more inside, pretty." Eileen looked over at Chibs and unzipped the back. She started to pull everything out, but then stopped abruptly and jumped up. She ran at him and hugged his legs.

"Thank you Chibs I love Hello Kitty and I love you!" Then she ran right back to her present. Chibs felt suddenly unsteady. He closed his eyes and took a breath.

Laura came up to him and kissed his cheek. "You did great. You figure that out on your own?"

He laughed. "Honestly, I threw meself on the mercy of a shopgirl."

"Well, you still did great." She turned to Eileen, busily sorting through her new art supplies. "She might be a minute. You want to come all the way in?"

He was still standing in the open doorway. He bent down and picked up the other, smaller package and came all the way in. "This is for you."

At first, Laura simply stared at the package he held out to her. "Why?"

Her question got his hackles up a bit—did he need a reason?—but he said only, "It's not much. Saw it and thought of you."

She finally took it from him and slowly opened the wrapping, sliding her finger under each piece of tape. She uncovered a large, bound journal, covered in deep blue silk—the color of her eyes. Eyes she turned up to his. "It's beautiful."

"I know you have one, but since you're always writing in it, I figured some day you'll run out of room and need another. There's a shop at the mall that seems to sell nothing but these—and pens." He felt uncomfortable, like it was a bad idea to give her this gift.

She opened it. The pages were blank, but for a small epigraph at the top of each one. He looked over her shoulder. "Those are lines of poetry. For inspiration, I suppose."

Clutching the book to her chest, she turned to face him, her expression surprisingly serious, almost pained. "This is perfect, Chibs. I don't—I wish—" She stopped and took a long breath. "Thank you."

He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he held back. "Welcome." Then he turned to Eileen. "Who wants to see the ocean today?"

-oOo-

Eileen talked nonstop for the first hour or so of the drive and then cut off abruptly, in mid-sentence. Chibs checked the rearview mirror and saw that she'd fallen asleep. He looked over at Laura, and they laughed. The second hour was quiet. Chibs and Laura didn't talk much. She had her window open, and he looked over several times to see her resting back against the seat, looking out the window, letting the breeze move over her face. She looked calm. So he drove and let her be calm. Normally, Chibs would have said that this drive was vastly more enjoyable on a bike, especially the last part, on the winding beach roads, but he was enjoying himself. He felt calm, too.

They stopped at a little market near the shore and picked up supplies for picnic, including cupcakes with pink frosting and a birthday candle in the shape of the numeral 5. Then they headed up to Stinson Beach.

It was November, so the beach wasn't crowded, but it was warm. For Eileen, it was the perfect day. Laura wouldn't let her more than ankle deep in the water—and the Pacific in Northern California wasn't really swimming temperature anyway, certainly not in November—but she let Eileen take off her shoes, and she cuffed her little jeans up and let her smoosh her toes in the shifting tidal sands. They walked a long ways up the beach, Eileen picking up seemingly every shell or fragment of a shell she found. She spent a solid ten minutes worrying over a jellyfish that had washed up, until Chibs figured out a way to get the diaphanous creature—which was well and truly dead, but he wasn't about to say so—back in the water.

In the afternoon, after lunch and some enforced quiet time on the blanket, Laura let Eileen wander off a short distance by herself. She dug in the sand with a little plastic bucket and shovel Chibs had gotten her at the market, and she ran after a flock of shorebirds, giggling every time she set them to flight. Chibs and Laura sat nearby on a grouping of rocks and watched her.

Chibs was lost in thought, watching a tall ship sailing off at some distance, near the horizon. The sun was getting low, and the rosy glow on the sails made a pretty picture.

"The roaring alongside he takes for granted, and that every so often the world is bound to shake."

Chibs turned at the sound of Laura's voice. The sunset made a pretty picture of her, too, aglow in the fading rays, her silky braids loosening, tendrils wisping around her face in the ocean breeze. She was looking toward Eileen, who was making a sand castle with upturned buckets of sand. There was a single, long-legged shorebird in the surf, running to and fro as the rising tide washed ashore.

"What was that, love?"

Startled, she looked over her shoulder. "Oh, sorry. It's just a poem I like. From Elizabeth Bishop—that book you looked at?"

"Aye, I remember. What's the poem?"

She pointed at the bird. "It's called 'Sandpiper.'"

"You know it by heart?" He was charmed by her love of poetry. There was something brilliant about this girl, her life so small and precarious, having room in her heart to love something as esoteric as poetry.

Nodding, she said, "Yeah. It's a favorite." He saw it dawn on her what he was really asking, and she laughed, blushing prettily. "Oh, I'm not going to recite it for you."

"I'd like it if you did."

"Sorry, no."

"Will you tell me what it's about, then?"

She shrugged and shifted so that she could see him better. "It's hard to say what a poem's about. It's different for everybody. For me, it's about spending so much time looking that you forget to see. Missing the big stuff."

"Sounds smart. I'd like to hear it." He nudged her leg.

"Nope. Tell you what, though, I'll lend you my book and you can read it." She stood up. "It's getting late—and cold. You ready to head back?"

Chibs packed up their stuff while Laura took Eileen up to the SUV and got her changed into dry, sand-free clothes. He was going to have to stop at the self-serve car wash in the morning and vacuum Viv's truck out before he brought it back to her.

They'd expected Eileen to sleep on the way back, but she was too happy and excited about her adventure, so she spent the entire ride cataloguing all of her shells, giving very particular descriptions of each one and where she'd found it. Laura was adept at giving appropriate and encouraging responses without devoting full attention to the constant chatter. Chibs let his mind wander. His resolve was cracking, and he needed to shore it up.

Eileen was still going when they pulled into the complex. Chibs pulled up in front of his own place. "How about ending the birthday adventure with pizza?"

"Yay! I love pizza I want sausage and peppers but no olives because they look like eyes." Chibs laughed—she really should be hoarse by now. Or have a jaw cramp, or something.

Laura looked over. "You sure? You're not sick of us yet?"

"Never." He got out of the car. Laura followed, helping Eileen out, and they went in.

Eileen fell asleep in her second piece of pizza. Literally—her head dropped like a stone onto her plate. Chibs and Laura both laughed hard before either of them got up to do something about her unfortunate choice of pillow. Then Laura got up to wet a napkin and gently tipped Eileen's head back to wipe it clean. Chibs got a cloth, wet that instead, and handed it to Laura, who took it with a grateful smile. Eileen didn't even twitch; she was out cold, her sweet little mouth hanging open.

"I should get her home. We clearly wore her out."

"No, lass. Lay her down on the sofa, finish your dinner before you go."

Laura considered for a second, and then nodded. "Okay, thanks." Chibs stood at the table and watched her ease Eileen into her arms, tenderly settle her on the sofa, and cover her with the afghan. Still, the little lass didn't move. Watching the two of them, and reflecting on the day, his resolve shattered.

Laughing quietly, Laura turned back and went into the kitchen. She rinsed the cloth out in the sink. As if he weren't entirely in control of his own body, Chibs walked up behind her and put a hand on her hip. She tensed, standing up straight and dropping the cloth to the bottom of the sink, but she didn't push him away. Sliding his fingers under the hem of her sweater, he pushed his hand forward until it was flat on her bare belly. She was warm and felt like satin. The skin and muscle under his palm trembled.

"Laura." He whispered it. She dropped her head, and he pressed his lips to the back of her neck. She moaned quietly, a sound sad and scared. His lips against her ear, he murmured, "S'alright?"

When she nodded, he pushed his hand to her other hip and turned her around. The move was sharp, and she gasped. He kissed her, his tongue deep in her mouth. Every moment he'd spent wanting to do exactly this washed over him, and he grabbed her head in his hands, holding her hard and tight to him.

He felt her hands on his back, clutching at his shirt. Her tongue danced with his, and she moaned again, into his mouth. This time the sound was not sad. It was hungry. He broke the kiss with a groan. "Ah, love, I want you. I've tried to leave you be. And I will if that's what you want. But I want to take you to bed."

She shifted her arms to wrap around his neck. "Please. Yes."

"Aye." He grabbed her hand from his neck and led her back to the bedroom, making sure Eileen was well asleep.

When they were in his bedroom, he closed and locked the door, in case Eileen woke up. Then he grabbed Laura and pulled her close, his hands pushing up under her sweater. They kissed, the intensity electric, but just as he was lifting her sweater up over her tits, she pushed away. "Wait."

He dropped his hands and stepped back. "It's alright, lass. We'll stop." He was impressed that he'd been able to say that so steadily and convincingly. Because his disappointment was acute.

"I don't want to stop. But I need to know—" She stopped, huffed, and started again. "I want this. A lot. But please tell me you won't disappear after. That would break…Leenie's heart."

He reached out and pulled the band from the bottom of one of her pigtails. As he worked the braid loose with his fingers, he said, "I'm not going anywhere, love."

Her smile was wide and lovely. "Good. That's good." She pulled the other elastic out and undid that braid. When her hair was loose, Chibs fed his fingers into it and brought her close.

Christ, she was young. Chibs had been with girls younger than Laura. Most of the 'Eaters were more mature, but some of the girls who came to the clubhouse looking for a good time were barely legal. Every now and then, one actually came to a Friday party to celebrate her 18th birthday. And truth be told, he had a thing for the young ones. But there was something about Laura that made him feel her age more. She was both vastly more mature and quite a bit more innocent than those 18-year-old chippies in their wee tight skirts who got giggly at the sight of the pole in the corner of the clubhouse.

Somehow, he thought it was that, the weary age lurking behind her eyes and the bright youth shining on her face, that had captured him so completely.

Before he kissed her again, he pulled her sweater off. She raised her arms up as soon as he had the hem in his fingers. She put her hands behind her back and undid the simple pink bra she wore, and then her breasts were free and bared to his gaze. Ah, they were all he'd imagined and more, firm and full and impressive, with nipples of deep rose. He saw a flush creeping over the skin below her collarbone, and he looked up to see her blushing furiously. He must have stared too long.

"You're lovely. So lovely." A faint glint caught his eye, and he looked at her throat. She wore a small gold cross on a fine gold chain around her neck. He'd never seen it before. Laura didn't dress to show off her chest; she usually wore a t-shirt, a bit on the loose side, and he'd never seen her in anything with any kind of a low neckline. He'd seen part of the chain, but never the pendant. He lifted it now in his fingers and raised his eyes to catch hers. "God-fearin' lass, are ya?"

She shrugged and pulled the cross out of his hands. "Born that way. Wouldn't say I fear him now so much as hate him. Not really on speaking terms. But I believe."

He knew well the need to rail at the skies. "Aye." Leaning down to claim her mouth again, he undid her jeans and pushed them off her hips. She fumbled at the buttons of his shirt until it was open, and then pushed it off his shoulders. She still had her sneakers on, so he lifted her onto the bed and pulled them off, then stripped her of her jeans and underwear—small and pink.

She lay naked before him, looking up at him. The only light in the room was the lamp on the nightstand, but it was enough that he could take her in. Though he'd never seen her body like this before, he could tell she'd filled out some since he'd met her. The first time she'd hugged him, her hips were all angles, and her arse was nonexistent. Now she had a little curve. Her stomach was taut, but on either side were faint, silvery lines. Stretch marks, from Eileen. When she saw him looking, she put her hands on her belly, splaying her fingers to hide them. He knelt down on the bed and pulled her hands away.

"Don't do that, love. You should be proud of those. Your body did something miraculous." She made a little sound indicating that she was unconvinced. He leaned over and kissed them all, gently, taking his time. Then he lay down beside her and took one of her splendid breasts into his mouth.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **I'm sorry! Really! But Chapter 7 was getting long, and I needed a POV shift, and I just *had* to end it there. I almost ended with them walking out of the kitchen, but then I thought I should at least make it clear that a lemon was truly in progress, and they were actually going to get all the way to the bed and get naked. So. Now. I hope this was worth the little bit of wait. :)

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 8: **

Laura's heart was racing. She lay naked under Chibs and he was—oh, God, what he was doing to her breasts. He was sucking on one, pulling it firmly and rhythmically between his teeth, his hand cupping it snugly. He was rolling her other nipple between the thumb and fingers of his other hand. The skin of his hands was thick and a little rough. His beard tickled. Oh, it felt so good!

She was embarrassed about her breasts. They were too big. She looked top heavy, and she swore people shaved 15 points off her IQ. They saw blonde, big boobs, and thought bimbo. Often, people talked to her while looking at her chest, men and women alike. In fact, women were way less subtle about it. And there was no such thing as a pretty bra in her size and price point. If she was lucky, she could find something with a bit of lace and in a color other than white. But never more than black or pink. Other girls could have purple bras and orange bras and polka dots. Laura got excited if the straps didn't look like they came off a parachute harness.

And guys might profess to love them, but they had no idea what to do with them. She thought that the thing guys supposedly told their small-busted women to make them feel better—more than a handful is just a waste—must be actually true. She hadn't had all that much sex, but sometimes guys just looked at her like they didn't know where to start.

Not Chibs. He got right to business, and he knew his business. He switched to suckle the other breast, his free hand taking over the still-wet nipple he'd just released, and she arched up with a gasp, pressing herself as tightly to his mouth as she could get and weaving her fingers into his hair.

She was with him. He wanted her. She'd spent these weeks thinking about him more and more, wanting him more and more, and becoming more and more restless being just friends. But he'd stayed clear, and she'd given up hoping. Tried to, at least. He was married, after all, even if she didn't understand how that worked, being apart from his wife for so long. But right now, he was with her, and they were in bed, and he was on her, and oh, she hoped Leenie stayed asleep.

He released her breast and pulled himself up over her body, propped on his elbows on either side of her head. He was still wearing his jeans and socks, but he was shirtless, and she loved the feel of his lean, strong, bare chest against her skin. He bent down and kissed her, and she held his head and kissed him back as passionately as she knew how, hooking her leg over his in an effort to be as close to him as she could be. Her heart felt like it was beating in her throat.

He pulled away and looked down at her, his fingers playing in her hair. "You're trembling, love. You alright? Need to stop?"

Was she shaking? She took a hand from his hair and held it up. Yes, she was. Hard. "God no, I don't want to stop. It's just—you feel so good. I don't think it's ever … I've ever … it's—it's good. Don't stop." She wasn't making sense.

With a grin, he shifted and moved a hand down her side. "I won't stop, love. Not unless you tell me." Then his hand was between her legs, his fingers sliding between her folds, and oh—_oh_.

"Ah, lass, aye. That's it. Feels good, yeah?" She nodded, no longer capable of speech. What his fingers were doing to her, plunging deep, probing, his thumb pressing on her clit. She whined and grabbed his shoulders, her hips moving in time with his hand. She was going to come. Oh, God, she was going to come. The heat was spreading out from her belly, making her knees tingle. She arched up, her head tipping way back, her back coming off the bed, as the orgasm charged toward her—and then his hand was gone.

Panting, confused, she opened her eyes to see him looking down at her with a wry smile. "Not yet, love." He raised up on his hands and pushed himself down her body until his face was where his hand had been. "Ah, such a lovely yellow puff."

Laura was embarrassed and almost tried to pull him back up. But when his mouth touched her, she moaned and her hands dropped away. She'd only had a guy use his mouth three times before. And never all the way to climax. She hadn't thought she really liked it. And she was especially embarrassed at the moment because she could have used a little landscaping down there. It seemed like a lot of girls were getting completely waxed or doing fancy shapes or whatever. Laura had never been able to afford that, and when she'd tried a home kit, it had hurt a whole lot, so she contented herself with trimming and shaving. But that hadn't really been a priority for the past few months, so she was pretty much au naturel down there now. If she'd thought there was a chance Chibs would be there, she would have made it a priority.

But he seemed to like it. And what he was doing was amazing, licking and sucking on her clit until she was shaking and twitching again. Her hands found their way back to his head, clutching his hair, and just as she felt her orgasm rising again, he slid his fingers inside her and rubbed them against that wonderful spot. She came, hard, arching back and then curling forward, back and forth, biting her lip to stay quiet, moving so violently that he grabbed her hip and held her down, keeping his mouth on her until she was done, and so sensitive she had to push him away.

He moved up so they were face to face. She was lightheaded, and her vision was blurry, but she could see that he was smiling. "That was beautiful," he murmured. When he kissed her, his beard was wet; she blushed to know why.

"I want to be in you. Alright?" He brushed her nose with his. She nodded, but that wasn't good enough. "Tell me, love."

She swallowed down her shyness and told him. "I want you inside me." With a quick kiss to her cheek, he was on his feet, stripping out of the rest of his clothes. He got a condom out of his dresser and brought it to the bed. She watched, taking in his body. When he saw her looking, he stopped and let her.

He was lean and well-defined, his arms and torso nearly hairless. He had a lot of tattoos—big ones, on his chest and on both arms. Laura had never been with a guy with tattoos. Chibs was a lot of things Laura had never been with before. She was, in fact, even now, even wanting him so much, a little intimidated. Her gaze traveled southward, and she was even more intimidated, so she raised her eyes and studied his tattoos. The biggest she could see was a huge Grim Reaper covering his left shoulder and upper arm. The one she noticed most, though, was inked over his heart, in simple Celtic font—a name: _Kerrianne_. His daughter. That was intimidating, too.

"Alright, love?"

"Yeah." She nodded and held out her arms. Better to get him back down with her, where his body wasn't so visible. She liked it—he looked dangerous and sexy—but right now, with her head in such a whirl, she was overwhelmed by all of it.

With a wink, he spread her legs, knelt between them, and rolled on the condom. When he leaned over her, propped on one hand, he said, "We'll go easy." He looked down between them. She felt him pushing against her, and she gasped and tensed as he entered her. She hadn't had sex in—she counted quickly in her head—more than six months. She was hardly a virgin—um, please—and it wasn't like things ever grew back down there, but he was hurting her, stretching her uncomfortably. Things might not grow back, but they sure did tighten up.

"Ah, Christ, love. Christ." His voice was a rumble. His eyes were closed, his brow knitted.

She felt a sharp pinch and made a tiny grunt before she could stop herself. Chibs stopped immediately and looked down at her, still not all the way inside her. His arms were shaking as they held him up. "Laura?"

She was not turning back now. She wanted this. "Don't stop. I just need to … make room or something."

"Bring your legs up, love." She did, and the shift made her gasp and him groan. He pushed forward again, and it was better. When he was all the way in, he rested his forehead on her shoulder and was still. He was taking deep breaths, his chest pressing against hers with every inhale. The sense of fullness inside her eased from pain to pleasure as they lay there, connected, and Laura flexed under him, making him grunt. Turning his head to suck on her neck, he started to move.

He went slowly, gently for the first several strokes, and then, just as Laura was beginning to feel really good, something must have changed in the way she was responding, because he breathed, "Aye, that's it lass, that's it," and sped up, going deeper. Oh, wow. She loved the feel of him, everything so taut, all of him hard and rippling over her, inside her. When she realized she was going to come again, she hooked her arms and legs around him, and then he really started to move, grunting with every thrust, coming up on his elbows again to look down at her, his eyes hot, his hair flopping over his forehead. He kissed her, his mouth heavy on hers, his tongue demanding. When her body went rigid with release, he lifted her so that her arching back was clear of the bed, and he drove into her until he, too, went rigid, groaning as if in agony.

Chibs collapsed on top of her, panting, and she put her arms around him, feeling sated and peaceful and anxious, hoping that he'd meant it when he said he wasn't going anywhere.

After a few moments lying like that, he pulled out, making her gasp again, and rolled to her side. He pulled off the condom and tossed it in the wastebasket under the nightstand. Laura lay there, not sure what to expect, and when he settled on the pillows and pulled her close, linking their fingers together, she let out a shaky sigh of relief.

He kissed the top of her head, and she tipped her head back to see his face. He was looking down at her, and he smiled. "Alright, love?"

Nodding, she laughed. "I'm great. That was great. No—that was _fantastic_. I have to go soon, though. I don't want Leenie to wake up with us in bed together. It would confuse her too much."

A dark look crossed his face. "Confuse her how? You the one gonna disappear?"

It shocked her that he would even think that, and she came up on her elbow so she could look straight at him. "No! No, that's not what I meant. But you're the only man who's ever been in her life, and I have to figure out how to tell her that things are different." Wait—she was making a huge assumption. Oh, God, she'd be mortified if she was wrong. Mortified and crushed. "If, I mean, if things _are_ different." She met his eyes. "Are they?"

"What're you asking, love?"

He was going to make her say it. Well, that wasn't very gentlemanly. She swallowed hard. "Are we—is this—is it something? Something more?" He was married, he was older, he was a biker—a Son, which she was fairly sure meant he was an outlaw. He'd about said as much. She had Leenie to protect. She didn't know what they could be or how "more" would work, and she knew she should care about that. But at the moment she just didn't. She just felt better when he was with them.

She thought maybe she loved him. She knew her daughter did.

"Is that what you want? Something more?"

Good thing he had so much saved up in the hero bank, because Laura was feeling left out in the cold now. He was making her say all the scary stuff. She was too scared to say yes, so she said another true thing. "I want you."

He grinned, his dimples deep. "Then I say aye, things are different, and aye, this is something more. And I want you to stay a bit, talk with me a little before you go."

She settled back on his shoulder, buzzing with relief. "What do you want to talk about?"

He squeezed his arm tightly around her. "Whatever you want to tell me."

She laughed, feeling awkward. But then she knew, and she thought he might even be asking for it. She'd been waiting for the right time, when it wouldn't feel like she was just dropping it randomly into a conversation. "I could tell you about what happened to us."

-oOo-

A few days later, she picked Leenie up at Neeta's. Laura was still stunned at their good fortune. Neeta was wonderful. She was kind, smart, and patient, and she actually had little lesson plans and learning stations, and she took them on a walk to the park every day after their home-cooked lunch. Better food than Laura usually made. Laura had dealt with a few home daycares where the kids were parked in front of the television all day. Neeta was so much more than that. And, miracle of miracles, Laura could afford her. Barely, but she made it work.

Everything was so good right now. She'd combed through the Goodwill and the Dollar Store a few times, and the apartment was looking almost homey. The job was okay. It was steady work that paid her bills, and she was thrilled to have it. She'd liked Tom, her boss, at first, but sometimes she saw him giving the girls who worked for him looks that bordered on nasty. Contemptuous. And it was all girls working there, young and pretty; Laura didn't know if that was by accident or design, though she suspected the latter. He was nice to everyone's face, though. She didn't understand it, but it made her a little careful around him. Still, she was happy to go to work every day.

And now, she had Chibs. The past few days had been wonderful. They hadn't had sex again yet, because working that out around Leenie was difficult. Laura hadn't figured out how to tell her that they might be spending more nights at Chibs' place, and that Mommy and Chibs would be sleeping in the same bed. She was only five, and she'd never known another man at all, other than Mr. Miller, an elderly shut-in who'd lived next door to their ex-house, and whom they'd checked in on from time to time. Leenie didn't even know that men and women slept together sometimes. Laura had to figure out how to handle that big discussion. It scared her.

Chibs was being patient, but he'd also gotten handsy all of a sudden, taking every slightest opportunity to touch her. She loved it. She'd never had someone pay her this kind of focused attention. He kept her in a constant state of arousal when he was near her. When she'd muttered a complaint about that, he'd laughed and told her welcome to the club. Which was kinda nice to hear.

Leenie talked the whole ride home about a game she'd played with Hayley. She wanted to invite Hayley for a playdate, but Laura wasn't sure how to make that happen. Their apartment wasn't really set up for two little girls to have fun. Maybe she could take them to the park or something. She knew Leenie would like that.

"Mommy, Chibs!"

"I see him, bug. He looks busy, though. We'll see him later." As she pulled through the complex and passed his apartment, they drove by Chibs and two other bikers, all three wearing helmets and kuttes—she now knew what his leather vest with the patches was called. He didn't see her. She almost honked, but then she was sure she saw—though he was being circumspect, holding it close to his body—that he was holding a large handgun, checking the clip. One of the bikers with him, both arms fully tattooed, had a huge knife in a leather sheath on his hip. The last thing she saw was Chibs holstering his gun under his kutte.

She knew he was an outlaw. This was not new information. He'd never said it outright, but he'd made it plain nonetheless. It didn't matter. It didn't. She should not feel queasy about that now. She looked in the rearview and saw that Leenie had moved on and was looking at the pictures she'd made at "school." Laura didn't think she'd seen Chibs do anything scary.

-oOo-

He texted her shortly after she got Leenie inside, saying that he'd be out most of the evening but would try to stop by at least to say good night. So she made burgers and salad for her and Leenie, and they played Chutes and Ladders, which Laura had picked up at Goodwill for 50 cents. It was a good night, but it was the first day since Leenie's birthday that they hadn't really seen him, and Laura felt restless, especially after what little she had seen of him. She didn't think it was crazy that she felt worried. If he was somewhere he needed to be armed, then he was somewhere dangerous.

Leenie had asked after him twice, but she didn't seem badly upset not to see him. Just disappointed. So was Laura.

It was long past Leenie's bedtime, and she was deeply asleep. Laura was in bed, too, snuggled up with her girl and trying to calm her mind, when her phone chimed a text. She reached over and checked it.

_2 late 2 knock?_ Chibs. It was almost 12:30. But he was okay, and that was good.

_Yes. But I'll come out. _She carefully got untangled from Leenie and slid out of the bed. She pulled her old brown cardigan over her long sleep tee as she went to the door.

As soon as she was out on the walk, he was on her, his hands in her hair, his mouth rough and emphatic on hers. He pushed her to the stucco wall and leaned his body against her. She was surprised, but she grabbed his kutte and kissed him back. But then his hands moved down to her thighs and squeezed. He was trying to lift her and get her legs around his hips. He hadn't said a word.

He wanted to have sex. Now. Outside. On the walkway. No. No, that wasn't going to happen. She resisted, and he shoved back at her and forced her legs up. The rough texture of the stucco snagged at her sweater and dug into her shoulder blades. His beard was abrading her face. He was grinding against her, his hand fumbling at her underwear, pulling it aside. Frightened now, she fought harder, getting her mouth free of his. "Chibs, stop! Stop!"

He backed off, breathless, and set her down. He looked wild at first, and then he closed his eyes and backed up until he hit the railing. He dragged his hands through his hair. "Christ. I'm sorry, love. Truly."

Pulling her sleep shirt down and wrapping her sweater around her, Laura tried to settle her heart. He'd really scared her. "What was that?"

"Don't know. I _am_ sorry."

"I don't—I don't like it like that. It scares me."

He came back to her and put his hand on her face. She didn't flinch, but she couldn't help but blink. "Ah, lass. I don't mean to scare you. I suppose I had a bit of a day. I shouldn't've come."

"I saw you this afternoon. Outside your apartment, with your friends? Leenie did, too."

He narrowed his eyes. "Aye?"

"I don't think she saw your gun."

He dropped his hand. For several seconds, he stood there, his eyes closed. Then he gave her a sad look. "But you did."

The best course of action here—the only course that made any kind of sense—was for them both to be open about this. She couldn't have something sneaking up on her and her daughter. She had to know what she was getting them into. She nodded. "Yeah. It's—I think it's okay. I just need to know Leenie is safe."

"I wouldn't let her be harmed, love. Or you. You know that." He caressed her arm.

She believed he would do what he could. He always did what he could. He was their hero, after all. But Leenie wasn't her only concern. "What about you?"

He laughed drily. "Ah, well. I told you I live a hard life. But I've managed to get this old in it."

It seemed like there was a big, black void in the middle of this strange conversation. Laura was confused. "I don't know if I should ask where you were today."

"No, you shouldn't."

"But that's why you were the way you just were with me?"

"I'd say so."

"I don't like it." She really didn't. The last thing she wanted to feel with him was frightened. The last thing she wanted to be with him was hurt. She hoped he didn't need to be like that. She wanted what they'd had on Leenie's birthday. Still the only time they'd had sex—which, at the moment, was a good thing, since the second time had almost been against the wall and against her will.

"I know. I'll keep away when I'm like that."

"I don't want—" She didn't want him to stay away under any circumstances, but maybe it was better if he did. She wouldn't want Leenie to see what he'd been like when she'd opened the door. "Okay."

Now, though, he took her hand and brought it to his lips, her gentleman once again. "Come sit with me on the steps for a bit. I want to talk to you about something."

Laura thought about that. The stairs were two doors down, which felt a bit far if Leenie woke up. But if they stayed at the top of the staircase, she could see the door. "Okay."

They sat side by side on the top step. Chibs held her close and hooked his arm over her legs. She was completely surrounded by him. "Next week is Thanksgiving. Have you thought about that?"

She nodded. She had. She'd intended to stop putting it off and talk to him about it tonight. She thought she might like to try to cook a Thanksgiving dinner for them, but she'd been shy. Charming was his home. He had friends here, people he called brothers. She was sure he had somewhere to go. She'd been wavering between asking how he'd feel about joining them for dinner—though she hadn't worked out how to get a turkey in her little oven—or just doing what she and Leenie had always done. Watch the Macy's parade and make turkey pot pies, then have store-bought pumpkin pie with spray whipped cream.

"The Sons make a big day of it. Food everywhere all day, then a big meal, football, all of it. I'd like to bring you and Eileen with me." He brushed his thumb over her cheek. "I'd like you to meet me family, love."

She was dumbstruck. She felt a little thrill up her spine, but she wasn't sure whether it was happiness or terror. Meeting his family—his club—and bringing Leenie into it, too? That was a lot. Then she thought of something even scarier. "Will Gemma be there?"

He laughed. "Aye, I'm afraid so. She takes it over." He touched his forehead to hers. "But don't worry. I'll keep you safe."

To have a place to go for the holidays. Leenie had never had a real celebration like that before. Laura hadn't had one since before she'd gotten pregnant. They'd been happy times when she was growing up. Even her father had been nice on the holidays.

She tucked her head in the crook of Chibs' shoulder. "Okay. Sounds fun."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 9:**

Chibs had a hard time convincing Laura that she need not bring food with her. Gemma always had her menu worked out, and she was willing to delegate assistance on the premises, but she didn't want anybody bringing to a Thanksgiving dinner food that she hadn't supervised.

Laura was nervous, though, and abhorred the thought of going to somebody's house and eating their food and not bringing something by way of thanks. So she'd bought a little plant. It was a pretty wee thing, with purple flowers. Her folks were both in need of a thorough hiding for turning their backs on their girl like they did, but they'd taught her manners, that was sure.

Thanksgiving, like most of the big holidays, was at Jax and Tara's. When Chibs had asked Jax if he'd mind two more at table, Jax's eyes had widened, but he'd said only, "Naw, bro, that's fine. But let my mom know."

When he'd told Gemma, she'd looked over her glasses at him and said, "Uh-huh. Saw that coming." Chibs just smiled and took his lumps. He hadn't said anything about Laura to anyone but Gemma; he didn't know if she'd said anything, but he suspected not. She'd keep the information to herself so she could enjoy the show.

The day was here, and it was time to go. He knocked on their door and opened it. "Hello, me pretty lasses." And pretty they were indeed. Laura had Eileen standing on one of the chairs and was doing her hair, making some kind of twist, like a rope of hair, across the top of her head and leaving the rest of it to hang long down her back. Eileen tried to jump down when she saw him, but Laura caught her.

"Hold up, ladybug. Let me finish." But Eileen kept turning her head to see him until Laura shifted her so she was facing him, and her hair could get finished.

"Chibs we're going to a party a fancy one I have a new dress and shoes like diamonds." She held up one foot; on it was a frilly white sock and a little glittery black shoe with a strap across the top. She was wearing a pretty pink dress with tiny white dots.

"And aren't you a vision, pretty. You'll be the loveliest lass at the ball."

Eileen's eyes got big. "Is it a ball like Cinderella's ball?" Laura raised an ironic eyebrow at Chibs, her message clear. _Smooth move, buddy_.

"No, pretty. No dancing or handsome princes today, I'm afraid. But if there were, you'd be the belle." He thought that was a fair save.

"Not Belle. Belle's dress is yellow and this one is pink. Sleeping Beauty's dress is pink like this one."

"Okay, bug. You're ready. Why don't you read until we're ready to go?" Laura helped Eileen off the chair, and she trotted over to her small stack of books.

Chibs walked over to Laura, who looked brilliant. She wore a slim black skirt and a blue sweater that did spectacular things for her eyes. It wasn't low cut or especially tight, but it did spectacular things for her chest, too. Chibs felt a thrill of jealousy at the thought of his brothers' eyes on her. He'd have to keep watch.

Laura usually wore sneakers, but today she'd slid her lovely feet into a pair of high-heeled black pumps that were simple and classy, but hot as hell. They were overdressed for the day, but he wasn't about to tell them and burst their bubble. Or his. He'd never seen her dressed like this, and he was awestruck, but mainly his thoughts were how, and how soon, he was going to get her out of these lovely clothes. He pulled her close. "You, love, are dead gorgeous. I didn't know you had clothes like this."

She cast a glance toward Eileen and, seeing her absorbed in a book, she looped her arms around his neck. "This is how I dressed for work, before … everything."

"Well, it's brilliant." He kissed her, just soft, lips to lips. The heels gave her several inches of height, so he didn't have to bend down quite so far to get close to her. After too-few seconds, she pulled away and looked again over at her girl, who was paying them no mind. She'd talked to Eileen, who'd been thrilled at the idea of "sleepovers" at his flat. They'd spent a couple of nights with him since last week, but Laura was not yet comfortable with her daughter seeing her this way. He thought it should be good for her, something they'd both been missing, but it wasn't his call how Laura handled it. Eileen was her girl, and she was a good mum.

He'd scared her last week, when he'd come back from that fucked confrontation with the new gang of cookers and had come on much too strong. The cookers, who'd banded together but in no discernible structure, at least not yet, had been tweaked out of their minds and had started firing, right in front of their kitchen, as soon as Jax, Hap, and Chibs had ridden up. They'd gone in expecting to have a serious, persuasive chat with these spotty kids who wanted to be big players and bring crank into town. Instead, they'd had a nasty gunfight. Not expecting a fight, the Sons had been unprepared and outnumbered, but the cookers were morons. When a couple of their number went down, the rest had bolted. And the Sons had blown the kitchen.

Whether that was the end of that remained to be seen. Chibs hoped the days of quiet weren't at an end. Because a new crew like those kids, all energy and no brains, without a clear sense of the weight and way of things—that could be chaos.

Throwdowns like that, life or death shite, got Chibs' blood up. He'd still been churning when he'd gotten home, and he'd gone hard at Laura, his wee young lass. He was glad she'd had the steel to back him down. After so many years of banging 'Eaters, who almost always took whatever he had to give them, he needed to relearn the give and take that was loving a woman. Laura deserved to be loved.

-oOo-

She parked her station wagon on the road, at the end of a fairly long line of cars and bikes. Chibs pulled in behind her and watched as she opened the door and swung her legs out, those high heels, her skirt riding up on her thighs. He dismounted, shifting his swelling cock in his jeans as he did.

She went around and helped Eileen out of the car, then reached in and pulled her little Hello Kitty backpack out. Chibs had watched them pack it with essentials—a change of more casual clothes, some books, and Mr. Snuffles. He walked up to them and held out his hands to Eileen, offering to pick her up. She reached up, and he took her into his arms. She was uncharacteristically quiet, looking around at everything. She put her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, "Is this a _castle_?"

Smiling, he turned to her sweet face. "No, pretty. It's just a house. You want to see inside?" Eileen nodded soberly, her eyes big.

Laura was just as agog as her daughter. She stood still, looking over the line of cars and bikes that ran from Jax and Tara's arched drive and onto the street. She looked up at him, and he could see her anxiety and intimidation clearly. Her Taurus looked absurdly out of place. The other cars and bikes were new and expensive, and Jax and Tara's house was big, brick, and imposing. Well, Tara was a surgeon, for fuck's sake.

The cartel days, as dark and violent as they had been, had been extremely lucrative, and most of the Sons had been able to get ahead and put back tidy nest eggs. Not Tig—money seemed to flow right through his hands. But even he was more financially stable these days. Nobody had been sad to see the end of their cartel partnership, but, even so, the money had been hard to let go. The porn and escort businesses they were into now did well, though. Not coke money, but decent. And legal. They'd had several years of prosperity, and now they were having a good stretch of relative peace to go with it.

Chibs put his hand on Laura's back and gave her a reassuring caress. "No worries, love. We're a bunch of hooligans, no matter how shiny our rides."

"But I thought—you live—I didn't—" She stopped trying to get a sentence out and looked forlornly at the little plant she'd brought.

"I don't go for all this sh—stuff. But I'm faring alright. C'mon. Let's go in." He took her hand.

He supposed he should add the house to the list of things he should have warned her about. He'd been fretting all week about whether to prepare her for the people who'd be at Thanksgiving, but he hadn't wanted to scare her. He'd never brought anyone to a party, and he knew full well bringing not only a woman but her child as well would cause a stir.

And it did. Every Son met Laura and Eileen with a look first of pure shock and then ironic certainty. Then they rode Chibs hard right in front of Laura. Every Son but Tig. He just stared and then stormed off to the bar, not even bothering to meet them.

The old ladies were much better, and Chibs had known they would be. Tara, Viv, and Frank were the reasons he knew this was the right way to bring Laura into the club. Tara gave him a quick, astute look, but then smiled at Laura, took the little plant as if it were the most delightful gift she'd gotten in years, and then put her arm around Laura's shoulders and led them off to introduce Eileen to Abel and Thomas. Knowing that the women would keep to the kitchen, and that Tara, Viv, and Frank, and maybe even Gemma, would keep the Crow Eaters at bay, Chibs winked at his girl and turned to the living room and the bar.

The drink was already on, and the trays of small snacks were dwindling, but a couple of girls came in right behind him with fresh trays. Most of the Sons were shouting at the television. Chibs sat and watched for awhile, but he wasn't a fan of American football, so he grabbed up a handful of little puffed bread balls from a snack tray, hoping they were the ones with the sausage and cream cheese inside, and went to the bar. Tig was standing there, a bottle of Jack and a glass in front of him.

Chibs popped a puffball in his mouth—sausage and cream cheese—and poured himself a Jameson. "Tiggy, how ya doin'?"

Tig turned to him, his eyes already bleary, but fierce. Not good. "Who's the chick?"

"Her name's Laura. I'd've introduced you, brother."

"Laura." He nodded thoughtfully, as if he were examining her name for significance. "And she's what to you?"

It was clear to Chibs that this conversation was balanced on a thin, sharp edge. He knew why. Tig was still raw from his breakup, even though it was a year old, and he didn't like Sons pairing off. It would probably settle him if Chibs downplayed Laura now, but he didn't want to. Whatever was happening with him and Laura was still very early days, but Chibs felt a need to mark some territory. "Girl I'm seeing."

"Girl you're seeing. Brought her to Thanksgiving. How's your _wife_ feel about that?"

"Careful, Tiggy."

Tig turned, leaned his hip against the bar, and crossed his arms. "No, really, man. I'm curious. Can't be your old lady. You already got one of those. So, what? Is she your—what was it Jax called Desi? My pet gash, right. Yeah. She your pet gash? That make her fair game, then? Maybe I'll take her for a spin. Those tits look like they'd make a mighty soft landing. Wouldn't mind feeling those high heels digging into my ass."

Chibs drank down his Jameson, his fist clenched hard around the glass. When it was empty, he slammed it to the bar. The bottles set up at the far end clattered together at the impact. "You're drunk, you're pathetic, and this is a family day, so I'm gonna tell you nice to back off right now. You are over the line."

Tig laughed. "What, you wanna fight? You think you can take me? You crazy Scot. You know you can't. But come on. Who needs a ring? I'll put you down right here."

A hand clamped down audibly on Tig's shoulder; Chibs felt another on his. Hap, standing behind Tig, said, "Okay, Tig. Come on, brother. Come outside and talk with me." Hap grabbed the bottle of Jack and led Tig out of the room.

Jax was next to Chibs, his hand still on his shoulder. "What's going on?"

"It's time that bastard climbed up out of his own arse."

Jax gave him a frustrated look but didn't pursue it. "Don't tear my house up, bro. I'll never hear the end of it. Whatever beef you have, wait for the ring. Or at least take it outside."

"Right, Jackie. Sorry." But it was over. Tig and Hap were out on the deck, and Chibs knew Hap would calm Tig down—or knock him out, whichever was most expedient.

Feeling pissed off and protective, Chibs went looking for Laura. He found her in the kitchen, standing with Frank. Frank was only a few years older than Laura; Chibs was glad to see them together. They were chatting and peeling potatoes, both wearing little white aprons over their clothes. Laura hadn't seen him. The sight of her, relaxed in the bosom of his family, made his cock twitch.

Viv walked up beside him, holding Hope, who had obviously just stopped crying. "She's sweet, baby."

He stared at Laura's legs, watching her calf muscles flex as she shifted on her high heels. "Aye, she is." He looked at Viv. "Where's Eileen, her girl?"

"Tara set her, Abel, and Thomas up in the playroom. They're watching a movie."

"You mind keeping an eye on her for a bit?"

Viv chuckled. "Lord. The testosterone cloud in this house today could choke a bull. Yes. Go have your way with your girl. Don't be late for dinner."

He didn't even try to deny it. He just grinned and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, love." He crossed the room and walked up behind Laura—Frank saw him first and rolled her eyes at him. Then he had his hands on the counter on either side of his girl. She flinched, startled, and he pulled her hair aside and kissed her neck.

"Come with me, love."

"What? Chibs …"

He took the peeler out of her hand and set it on the counter. "It's alright. Trust me. C'mon."

Laura looked at Frank, who grinned, shrugged, and said, "Bikers. They're not subtle."

She turned a skeptical eye on him. "Are you serious? What about Leenie?"

"She's sorted. Watching a movie. Viv's gonna look after her. We've an opportunity here, lass."

"Here?" She asked the question, but she took off the apron and put her hand in his. He clutched it and walked her through the kitchen, down the hall, and into a small room across from the bathroom. With a hand on the small of her back, her ushered her in ahead of him and closed and locked the door.

"Oh. Oh," Laura whispered and walked farther into the room. It was a small library, all the walls covered floor to ceiling with bookshelves, most of them full. Chibs hadn't chosen it for that reason; he'd picked it because it was the nearest room and one that Tara didn't have a heart attack about it being used…privately, as long as everybody cleaned up after themselves. But Chibs stood at the door and watched as Laura went from bookcase to bookcase, reaching out to, but not touching, the books. He was enchanted. He went to her and pulled her back against his chest, his hands on her shoulders.

She relaxed into him and put her hands on his. "This is a great room."

He leaned down and buried his face in the golden silk of her hair. The shampoo she used smelled like fruit. "Aye? Hadn't noticed. All I see is you."

She turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Everybody knows why you brought me in here, don't they?"

"Aye, lass. But never you mind. We're a randy lot." With her arms raised like that, her tits were up extra high and inviting. Chibs pushed his hands under her lovely sweater and cupped them both, his hands over the silk of her bra, his thumbs brushing back and forth over her nipples until they made hard buttons and her sapphire eyes flashed. She whimpered quietly, and, tweaking at her nipples, he bent down to take her mouth.

She was an enthusiastic kisser, her tongue moving with his right away, her hands pulling at his hair. When she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, he grunted, his hold on her nipples tightening. She gasped, her head pulling away as her body came closer. She was quiet during sex, and thus far she'd hadn't seemed to want to take the lead, but Christ, she was eager.

So was he. Releasing her breasts, he walked her backwards until she hit the back of the small sofa in the middle of the room. He turned her around and bent her over, placing her hands on the sofa, then leaning into her, his hands on her hips.

Her whole body tensed. "Chibs, wait. Wait. What—"

He folded over her back and kissed her ear, sucking gently on the lobe for a few seconds. "Shh, lass. Shh. S'alright. Trust me." Breathing heavily, she considered him out of the corner of her eye. Finally, she nodded. Ah, his good little lass. He took the hem of her skirt in his fingers and pulled it up over her hips.

She was wearing a wee black thong. Chibs' cock ached with impatience. "You drive me wild, love." With a quick caress of her sweet, pale arse, he yanked open his belt and jeans, took a condom from his pocket, and rolled it on.

Laura was quiet, but still tense. He nudged a knee between her legs to spread them, and she flinched and gasped. Concerned, but no less in need, he bent over her again to whisper in her ear. "I'll not hurt you, Laura. I'll never hurt you. Trust me." Again, she only nodded.

He pushed his hand between her thighs and pulled her thong out of the way. He didn't know why she was so nervous. A small voice in his head suggested that he should back off and find out, but he was on fire, and she wasn't stopping him. Maybe she was simply shy about where they were. She was wet; even as tense as she was, she was wet. She wanted it. He fingered her clit gently, circling that bud until she moaned and twitched. Then he pushed into her delicious pussy, tight like a fist around his cock.

She gasped loudly—perhaps the loudest sound she'd yet made during their sex—and, on the exhale, whispered, "Oh, thank God." She relaxed completely.

Buried deep inside her, Chibs stopped. Her exclamation surprised him. There was something that didn't fit between her tension before he entered her and her ease now. "Laura? Alright?"

Looking over her shoulder at him, she smiled. Her eyes, though, glittered a bit. "Yeah. I'm okay. I'm good." She pushed back, bringing him even deeper, and he groaned and stopped worrying. He pulled back and slid forward, and she gasped loudly. He did it again, and she gasped again. Again. And again. Laura had been responsive and passionate in bed with him, but she was always quiet, whimpering at the most. He loved what was happening here. He pulled back and drove into her, and she cried out. The next time he did it, she surged back on him as he struck home, and they both cried out. Ah, God, the hot, velvet feel of her.

"Christ," he groaned. "You like this, yeah?"

She was panting, and she didn't answer except to nod—and shimmy her hips. He closed his eyes at the pleasure of it. "Aye, lass. That's the way." He brought his hand around to her clit, and she bucked and stood up, grabbing at his hand, pressing it firmly to her. Hooking his other hand over her shoulder, almost around her neck, he bent her over again, and he let himself go, his hips moving swiftly, his hand massaging her clit. She released his hand and grabbed the back of the sofa in both fists, making a high moan with every deep thrust.

Her body began to shudder, like an electric current moving under her skin, and he knew she was close. He wanted to hear more. "Tell me, love. Talk to me." She whined, and he rubbed his fingers harder on her. "Talk to me."

"It's—it's good." He thrust home, and she made her little moan. "Oh, I'm …" she trailed off with a whimper.

"You're what?" Fuck, she was tight, and the wettest she'd yet been with him. His hand was dripping as he excited her clit. She thrummed and moaned and bucked on him, a little ball of sexual energy. He was close, too, but he wanted to draw her out. The sounds she was making this afternoon took him to a new level of need for her.

Her muscles clamped around him. "Oh, I'm—I'm coming. Oh, please. I'm coming! Oh, nownownownow." She tensed, constricting almost painfully around him, but this time it wasn't anxiety that made her so taut.

"Aye, and it's beautiful," he growled and thrust into her until the weight and heat deep in his belly exploded, and he wrapped his arms around her and came, groaning hoarsely.

Chibs rested on Laura's back. They were both breathing hard. He felt dazed. Laura had shown herself, in the few times they'd been together, to be a shy lover. He found it beguiling, made all the more sweet by how open she'd been about wanting to be with him. But her limited experience also underscored to him her age, a reminder he didn't need. He wanted her more comfortable. He wanted to make her wild. He felt like he'd unlocked something here in Jax's library.

Pulling gently out, he stood and brought her up with him, turning her around. She was mussed and flushed; she was gorgeous. He brushed her hair off her face and kissed her tenderly. "Why were you so nervous when we started, love?"

The question made her flush deepen into a vivid blush, and she looked down. He lifted her chin. "Don't be embarrassed."

"I thought you wanted to…do…something else."

Sweet Christ. "Ah, love. And you don't want that?"

She shook her head.

"Why didn't you tell me, then?"

"You asked me to trust you. I do."

Chibs was shocked speechless.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **I have a little pinterest board for this story, with pictures of the models for Laura and Eileen, and a copy of the poem from which the title derives (and which is referenced in this chapter and others). It's not much, but if you're interested, the link is posted on my profile. :)

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 10:**

Laura adjusted her underwear and slid her skirt back down. Chibs was staring at her, and she felt shaken and insecure, like telling him she trusted him was a step too far. She didn't understand. He took a step back, pulled the condom off, and grabbed a box of tissues from the table at the end of the sofa. He tipped the top of the box her way, and she took a couple and reached back under her skirt. Things in her head felt a little haywire, so she took a breath and focused on particulars. She needed to check on Leenie. She needed to go across the hall to the bathroom and make sure she looked presentable before she went out where all those strangers were. She wondered how many of them knew what she and Chibs had just done. She wondered if they cared, or if it mattered. Was it noteworthy to get pulled into a room in the middle of a party for a quickie? Was it normal?

It was a very strange day, so far.

-oOo-

She'd been intimidated when they'd pulled up in front of this house. She was still intimidated. The image she'd had in her mind of a biker's house had been different. A lot different. She knew now that Tara was a doctor, so it made a little more sense. But it didn't make her any less intimidated—and Leenie was, too. She'd had Chibs in a choke hold when they came into the house, and when he put her down to greet his "brothers," she'd scooted immediately to Laura and clamped her fist around her hand. Leenie was always shy at first, but Laura knew she was feeling bonus shyness because of all the big, scary men.

And good lord, what a lot of big, scary men. They were all nice—well, most of them were, smiling and shaking her hand. They made cheerfully rude comments to Chibs while she was standing there, but she hadn't been expecting them to act like accountants or anything, so that hadn't bothered her. Nobody was vulgar or anything. A couple of the guys were really nice and polite—one, with a mohawk, big tribal tattoos on his head, and a brilliant smile, even leaned in and whispered with a laugh that she shouldn't worry, because they'd all had their shots. That had made her laugh, and she was grateful for it. He was Juice. She wasn't sure she'd remember everybody's name, but a few stuck out.

Like Happy. He scared the crap out of both Leenie and her. He was nice enough, shaking her hand and even holding his hand out to Leenie—though she ducked behind Laura's legs—but she'd never seen a man whose relaxed face looked as angry as his did. She assumed Happy had to be one of those ironic nicknames, like calling a fat guy "Slim." He had tattoos almost everywhere, including on his shaved head. Laura remembered him from the day outside Chibs' apartment. He was the one who'd been wearing the huge knife. She wanted to stay clear of him.

There was another guy she hadn't met, who looked scary, too. More scary crazy than scary angry, though. He had wild black hair and insanely intense blue eyes. He'd taken one look at Laura and Leenie and had gone away. Laura wanted to stay clear of him, too.

The other guys seemed okay. Rough, and loud, but okay. Still, Laura had felt some relief when Chibs introduced her and Leenie to Tara. Tara took that embarrassing little African violet, which Laura had bought for five bucks at the market, and thanked her like she really was pleased. That helped.

Then Chibs had gone off with the bikers, and Tara had led Laura and Leenie into the kitchen. Laura was nervous about losing the one person she knew here, but it didn't look like she had a choice, and anyway, she wasn't so keen on hanging out in the room full of bikers—which, judging from the yelling, was where the television and the football was. Not surprising. So, okay. They were on their own with the women. Okay.

Tara had set the plant down on a shelf and bent down to Leenie. "I have two little boys who are watching movies today. Would you like to meet them?" Leenie had surprised Laura by nodding, so they followed Tara into a room off the kitchen where two boys, a blond about 8 or 9, and a brunet about 6 or so, were sitting in gaming chairs, facing a big television. Tara introduced them as Abel and Thomas, and they looked over and then turned back to the TV. They were watching an animated movie that Laura didn't recognize. It caught Leenie's interest right away, though. She walked in and stood between the boys, her little pack still clutched in her hands.

Laura asked, "You want to watch, bug?" Leenie nodded without looking at her. "Okay. I'm going to be close—just outside—if you need me. Okay?" Leenie nodded again, and, with some trepidation, Laura left the room with Tara. She made sure the door stayed open, though.

Tara patted her arm. "She'll be fine. Tons of people keeping track. Come on, we'll just be right here in the kitchen, anyway."

And there was Gemma. Laura girded for some kind of awful comment, but she just said, "Hey, darlin'. Why don't you help Frank peel potatoes?" And she went back to what she was doing. Bemused, Laura went in the direction Gemma had indicated.

Frank, it turned out, was a thin, tiny—even shorter than Laura, who was only 5'3—girl with about as much ink as the bikers in the other room, lots of piercings, and a long, red-blonde ponytail. She looked younger than Laura, too. But she was nice, and it was clear within a few minutes of peeling potatoes with her that she wasn't a kid. She didn't talk much, which was fine with Laura, but she was funny, and every time Gemma's voice rang out giving some instruction to somebody, Frank had a little affectionately snarky commentary to go along with it, which made Laura laugh. She started to relax a little. She might like Frank.

Then the really nice biker, Juice, came in and got a bottle of water out of the fridge. He came up to them and said, "Baby, you're not _cooking_, are you? We like these people."

Frank turned and waved her peeler at him like a shiv. "As you can plainly see, asshole, I'm peeling. Watch your mouth, or I'll find something more interesting to peel." Juice laughed, grabbed Frank's ass, and kissed her. Then he flashed a grin Laura's way. He really had an amazing smile.

Right after Juice went back to the other room, the piercing scream of a very upset child rang out. Laura's maternal radar pinged madly, even though she knew by the sound that the child was much younger than Leenie. Still, by instinct, she headed toward the sound. She saw a very little girl, maybe two years old, with a wild halo of black curls, in a pretty yellow dress, wailing and trying to get into the room where Leenie and the boys were. They'd closed the door. As Laura approached, the door opened, and the blond boy—Abel—pushed the baby. She landed on her diapered bottom with a thud. The door slammed shut, and the baby really went to town.

Despite not knowing the baby or whom she belonged to, Laura went to pick her up. She couldn't just let her sit there so upset. As she got to her, though, a voice behind her said, "I got her, thanks." Laura turned to see a exotic-looking woman with long, curly black hair—obviously the baby's mom.

"I'm here, baby, I'm here. Oh no, it's okay." She settled the slowly calming little girl on her shoulder and turned around. She was breathless, and she looked pissed.

Nervous, Laura said, "I'm sorry—she was crying and I thought I'd help…"

The woman's face cleared. "No, no. It's fine. You're Laura, right? I'm Viv." She shifted the baby and held out her hand. Laura shook it. "And this sad little bit is Hope."

"Hi. Is she okay?" Laura didn't know whether to tell Viv what she'd seen. She decided not to. She didn't understand how all these people were related or how well they got along.

"Oh, I think so. How 'bout you? This scene is a bit much your first time, I know. If you need a break, there's lots of nooks and crannies to hide in for a while. Nobody'll mind."

"Thanks. But I guess I'm on potato duty, so I should…" she gestured vaguely back to the kitchen.

Viv smiled. "Gotcha. Gemma's pretty cool once you get to know her, by the way. Promise."

Laura laughed. She didn't believe it, but rather than say so, she nodded. She opened the door to the room Leenie and the boys were in, checked to see that Leenie was okay, and headed back to the kitchen, leaving the door wide open.

Five minutes later, Chibs was pulling her through the house and into the library.

-oOo-

He fastened his jeans and tossed the condom and their tissues in a wastebasket—Laura was going to have to take them with her and flush them when they left this room, because she was mortified at the thought of somebody else finding them—but he still hadn't said anything. She didn't know why he was being quiet now. Had she said something wrong? Done something? She was still coming down from the disorienting buzziness of an earthshattering orgasm combined with the huge fear she'd felt when she'd thought he'd wanted to do something different. She had been terrified. Truly. A totally different fear than she'd felt last week, when he'd pushed her against the wall, but a real fear. She wasn't sure why she hadn't stopped him, except the reason she'd said. She trusted him. He said he wouldn't hurt her. And he hadn't.

But now she was afraid for a different reason. She felt weird today, here. Unsteady or something. There was too much going on for her to stew about the way he was acting, though. Her brain couldn't take it. So she asked. "Chibs? Did I…do something wrong?"

He wheeled around to face her. "What? No, lass. Christ, why would you think that?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. You got quiet."

He cupped her face in his hands, and the gesture calmed her instantly, as did his smile. "Nothing about you is wrong, love. Nothing." He bent down to kiss her, and she could feel in his lips that it was true. "I'm just surprised you'd've let me do something you didn't want. You stopped me before."

She could feel her face turn blazing hot, and she tried to turn away, but he held her face. "Laura?"

"I don't know. It's what I said. I trust you. You said you wouldn't hurt me. And…well, this day is weird." That was a stupid answer, but she didn't have a better one. Honestly, sex with Chibs—so far, anyway—was always a little intimidating, because it was nothing like anything she'd known before. It was more intense, more emotional, more intimate, more…everything. She was always nervous, at least at the start.

He gave her a searching look, then nodded and kissed her forehead. "Alright. You ready to go back out?" She nodded.

He laughed when she gathered up their trash from the wastebasket and balled it all up—carefully—in her hand so she could take it discreetly to the bathroom. He waited for her in the hall while she cleaned up and made herself presentable, and then he led her back to the kitchen, where he deposited her with the women and went back to the man cave with the other Sons. Nobody seemed to notice or care where they'd been—well, they didn't react, anyway, not to her.

She peeked in on Leenie before she went back to work. Everything seemed quiet, and Leenie seemed to be very interested in the movie. There was a black dragon. Laura hoped it wasn't too scary.

The kitchen smelled amazing—turkey and bread and cranberries and potatoes and so much more. Laura felt a cramp of nostalgia for her own family Thanksgivings, but she shoved it away. That family didn't exist for her any longer, and it had mostly been a façade, anyway.

Frank had finished the potatoes, so Gemma, with no more comment on her disappearance than a single, archly raised eyebrow, put Laura and another girl, Bonnie, to work washing dishes. Laura didn't know which Son Bonnie matched with—in fact, there seemed to be more women than men around, so maybe she didn't match with anybody—but she wasn't very talkative, so Laura didn't think she'd find out one way or the other. She wasn't bitchy or anything, just not interested, which was fine with Laura. Bonnie said she wanted to dry, so Laura washed.

She felt a little hand pulling at her sweater. Leenie was there, holding Mr. Snuffles and sucking her thumb. In the middle of the day, that usually indicated some kind of stress. She took her thumb out and cupped her hand to her mouth, signaling that she wanted to whisper, so Laura squatted down, already concerned. "What's up, ladybug?"

Leenie put her mouth on Laura's ear. "I don't want to play with Abel."

Abel was the older boy. The one who'd pushed the baby. Laura didn't like him.

"You okay, Leenie?"

"Yes but he took Mr. Snuffles and Mr. Snuffles got scared."

Oh, Laura wanted to break that little asshole into bite-size pieces. Except Abel was Tara's kid. And Jax's, who was, like, Chibs' boss, she guessed. This was their house. And Laura and Leenie were the outsiders. Outsiders in a house full of outlaw bikers. She closed her eyes and took a long breath. Then, when that wasn't enough, she took another. Then she smiled at Leenie and gave her bunny a concerned once-over. "Is Mr. Snuffles okay now?"

Still whispering, pressing her mouth wetly to Laura's ear, Leenie said, "Yes but he wants me to read him a story until he feels better."

"Well, you should do that, then. Where's your pack?"

Leenie pointed back toward the room she'd been in. "Okay, bug, I'll go with you, and we'll get your pack." She stood and took her daughter's hand, wishing she had, oh, she didn't know, maybe a flamethrower. Yeah, a flamethrower would work.

They went into the room. The boys were wrestling. Or beating each other up. Hard to tell, and Laura didn't care. She found Leenie's pack, intact, and grabbed it. "Come on, bug. I think I know a good place for you and Mr. Snuffles."

The kitchen was a huge room, with a big island, and on one side of the island was another big room, which Laura knew from watching HGTV was a "hearth room." Leenie was right; this place was like a castle. There was a small dining table and, beyond that, two sofas facing each other in front of a fireplace. The women had been moving in and out of there, taking breaks and chatting, but now, with the dinner preparations in full swing, everybody was working, so the room was empty. Laura set Leenie on one of the couches and gave her the pack. Leenie pulled out _The Velveteen Rabbit_.

"I'm going to be right there, bug. You can see me. So if you need anything, you let me know." Leenie nodded, all better, now that her problem was solved, and Laura went back to the sink, feeling toxic. She wished she and Leenie had stayed home and had turkey pot pies. Except for ambushing her for sex, she wouldn't even know that Chibs was in the house. He'd said he'd protect them. He'd been joking, but still.

-oOo-

The women were putting dinner on the table. Laura had to admit it looked amazing, a real feast. The table was dressed with a pretty linen tablecloth and napkins embroidered with multicolored leaves, nice china and silverware, the works. There was a floral centerpiece with candles in the middle of the table. The disconnect between the bikers and all these fancy trappings was bizarre.

The dining table in the hearth room was set up as the kids' table. Laura didn't want Leenie to have to sit with Abel in a different room from her, but she didn't know how to navigate the politics. She didn't know if anyone would be offended if she brought Leenie to the big table. If Leenie balked at sitting with the kids, though, screw politics.

She was realizing some benefits to not having family and friends. Like not having to deal with assholes you're stuck with.

Viv came up to her while she was dropping hot rolls into baskets. "Can I show you something?" Laura brushed off her hands and went with her to the hearth room, where Leenie was still reading to her bunny. But now Hope, Viv's baby, was sitting next to her, and Leenie was reading to her, too.

Viv nudged her. "That's a good girl you've got. I just wanted to thank you. Hope's been fused to me most of the day."

Laura smiled, feeling a little better. "Your Hope's a sweet little thing."

"My Hope. Yeah. She's a little tiger, but she's definitely my Hope."

Gemma called out, "Little help, maybe?" and Viv rolled her eyes.

"I still promise. You'll get to like her. Mostly."

Laura looked away from Gemma, who was standing there glaring at them. "Okay. I'll take your word for it." She probably shouldn't have said that, with its not-very-subtly implied dig at Gemma, but it was out now. She braced herself for some kind of negative response. But Viv only winked. Okay, good.

When it came time to set the kids up at the table, Leenie did indeed balk, so Laura brought her to the big dining room table with her. Gemma gave her a look, but Laura just gave it right back. There was a lot she had let slide this day, but forcing her daughter to sit at a table with a little sociopath who picked on baby girls was _not_ going to happen.

Chibs, sitting next to her—finally!—caught the tense exchange of looks and leaned into her. "Alright, love?"

"Fine." He gave her a look that said he knew that "fine" meant its opposite, but he didn't say anything. Laura was trying to decide where her anger was best directed. She didn't want to aim it at Chibs unless she could figure out why. For now, it was simmering, directed only inward. She was miserable.

Laura noticed that not all of the women who'd been working in the kitchen had places at the table. Some did, but others were obviously here to act as servers—Bonnie, for one. She found that interesting, and a little sad. Other than Gemma being bossy, she hadn't noticed much of a division among the women while they were all in the kitchen, so she didn't understand how these women were different. But she was selfishly glad she had a place at the table. She didn't think she would have been able to take it if she hadn't.

The table was almost full when Laura heard Hope laughing hysterically, that totally unrestrained, almost maniacal laughter of the very young. She looked up to see Happy—he of the angry face—flying Hope into the room like an airplane. She'd been changed and was wearing little jeans and a black t-shirt with a pink skull-and-crossbones design. Happy turned her up, pretended to eat her belly, causing more gales of hysteria, and then handed her to Viv. Then he bent down and kissed Viv's head. Okay, they were a family. And Happy looked like a completely different person when he smiled. It was eerie.

The last person to come to the table was the crazy-eyed biker who'd turned away from meeting her. He looked disheveled, as if perhaps he'd been sleeping. He walked by the last empty chair and stopped behind the one she and Leenie were sitting in. She felt Chibs tense up next to them. Oh, great.

The crazy biker leaned down—whoof, he reeked of whiskey, but different from the way Chibs smelled when he drank—and said, right alongside her face, "Hey, doll. You're a sweet thing. Great tits. We should hook up."

Chibs leapt to his feet. Right after him, a couple of the other men stood, too. Laura felt the blood rush out of her face and then straight back in, doubled. Oh, she was missing her turkey pot pies. She felt a lump growing in her throat, and she coughed. Then she coughed again when it didn't go away. She'd just die if she started to cry right now. Leenie was sitting in her lap, looking around, and Laura could tell she was picking up enough tension to be scared. She composed herself and gave her daughter a reassuring squeeze. Then she waited for it to be over.

Jax, standing at the head of the table, said, "Enough! Chibs, easy, bro. Tig, you sit down and shut up, or you get out. Everybody else, sit down. It's Thanksgiving, for fuck's sake." Everybody but Jax and Tig sat. Chibs put his arm around her, but she didn't feel reassured. Jax, still standing, looked at Laura. Her head was down, but she'd been watching him out of the corner of her eye as he spoke. "I'm sorry, darlin'. We shouldn't have let him out of his cage."

Tig—that was the crazy biker's name, and Laura certainly wouldn't forget it—pulled the empty chair over and stormed back to the living room. Happy stood again and said, "I'll take him home. I'll be back." He leaned over to Viv, said, "Sorry, honey," kissed her cheek, and left the table.

The tense moment lasted maybe five seconds longer, and then it was just gone. People started passing food and joking around like none of that horror had happened. The other Sons seemed to go out of their way, though, to be nice to her and Leenie. One, an older, heavyset man with long, iron-grey hair and beard, whose name Laura couldn't remember, even scooted over from his seat next to her to the one Tig had knocked over, so Leenie could have a chair of her own. The meal was almost pleasant.

Laura's feelings about the day, and about these people, Chibs' family, were deeply confused.

-oOo-

When Laura pulled into the complex, Chibs right behind her, she headed toward her own apartment. Leenie was sleeping in the backseat. She and Chibs hadn't talked about whether they'd stay the night with him or not, but Laura was exhausted. Her brain felt like a pinball machine.

Chibs didn't stop at his place, though. He followed right behind her until she parked, and he was at her car door as she got out. He put a gloved hand on her hip.

"I thought you'd stay with me tonight, love."

She shook her head. "I'm tired, Chibs. And Leenie's conked out. I think we should just go up to our place tonight."

He pulled at her hip a little, his brow drawn. "Seems we need to talk, though, yeah? About today?"

_And say what_?, she wondered. _Chibs, your boss's kid is a monster? Chibs, one of your "brothers" humiliated the hell out of me today? Chibs, you dropped me in the middle of strangers and disappeared—except for that time when you grabbed me for a quickie? Chibs, I'm pissed?_

Well, yeah. All of that. She considered whether she had that kind of energy. She wasn't sure.

He took a step, pressing her against the Taurus. "Come back with me, lass. Talk to me. Tell me what's on your mind."

She considered for a few seconds more, his body hard against hers, and then she nodded. Leenie was still sleeping, so she got back in her car and drove around to his apartment.

They settled Leenie, who'd changed into little pink sweats after dinner, on the couch. She'd had a big day, too, so she didn't rouse. Then Chibs took Laura's hand and led her to the bedroom. She was prepared for him to get amorous right away, but he simply led her to the bed and sat on the edge with her.

"Are you upset about what we did? In the library?" He brushed her hair back over her shoulder.

"No." Why did she say no? Was that the right answer? "I mean, it surprised me, and, uh…I thought…" She wouldn't finish that sentence. "It was weird, getting pulled away in front of everybody. But I liked…what we did. And you were right. Nobody cared."

"Then what, love?" As if something occurred to him, a black look emerged on his features. "Did Tig do something to you? More than at dinner?"

"No. He's awful, and that was _awful_, but that's practically the only time I saw him all day."

"I'm so sorry about that, Laura. I'm gonna bloody the bastard for it, I swear it." Taking her chin in his fingers, he turned her to face him. "Is there more, then?"

"It was a weird day. Jax's kid was mean to Leenie, and—"

Chibs cut her off. "Abel, the older one? Aye, he's becoming a little arsehole. Did he hurt her?"

"No. He took Mr. Snuffles from her. But she's okay. It _really_ pissed me off, though." She thought about telling him that Abel had pushed Hope—a two year old!—too, but decided that wasn't her place.

When he put his arm around her and pulled her to his chest, she went willingly. It felt good to be safe in his arms. He kissed her head and murmured. "Ah, love. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

She sat back up to look at him. "That's the hardest thing, I think. About today. You disappeared and left me with all these people I didn't know. _Your_ people. I felt lost. I mean, I've been on my own since I was 17, me and Leenie, so I got through it, but I wasn't expecting to be on my own today. And…just…the thing with you in the library, and then what Tig said at dinner, I just felt…" She didn't know how to articulate it. She felt what? Well, _naked_, but she didn't want to say that.

She sighed and tried to say it another way. "You said you'd protect us, and I know you were kidding, and there wasn't really anything to protect us from, except there kinda was. It made me feel lonely. I don't usually feel lonely."

Okay, that was all of it. She was pretty sure. She finished her little speech and sat back a bit, not looking away but really wanting to. A series of expressions made their way across his face; Laura couldn't name them all. But she thought the last one was regret.

"Laura. I've never been with someone who doesn't know the life. I suppose I don't know the right way to bring you in. Fuck, love. I thought I was taking care of you by making sure you stayed with the women. And what we did, nobody cared about that. Truly. The Sons can be…well, you saw what the Sons can be. But we're usually better behaved around our women and children than Tig was today. He's a special case. He's going through some shite."

He picked up a lock of hair from where it lay over her breast and coiled it around his fingers. "I need you to think carefully, love. If we're on a road, you and I, I need you to know your feelings about the Sons. Things will go hard for us if you can't find your way in. I can't live two lives."

Laura's pulse pounded in her ears and behind her eyes. So many things scared her about what he'd said. She thought he was asking her to be in his life, really in his life. Was that what she wanted? Was it good for Leenie? Chibs was. Leenie adored him, and he was so good with her. But the family she'd seen today—was that good for them? They'd seemed happy, Happy and Viv, Juice and Frank, Jax and Tara. A lot about their life seemed good—far better than anything Laura had been able to do for Leenie. Was there a place for them in it?

Chibs was married. He'd been married since before she was born. He was _married_. He hadn't skirted that fact, and he hadn't said it would change. Gemma had told her outright that it would not. Laura knew the circumstances were unusual, but could she live as a man's mistress, always knowing he was really someone else's?

There was so much she didn't understand, so much she didn't know if she'd ever understand. There was too much. It was too big. The opening lines of the poem she'd told him about at the beach rolled through her head. _The roaring alongside he takes for granted, and that every so often the world is bound to shake._

To her, the poem was an admonition not to focus so much on the little things—the tiny particles of sand, and the shallow washes of surf—that you forget to look up and see the enormity of the ocean at your side. She'd always thought the speaker of the poem was critical of the sandpiper, picking around at the sand and not seeing the waves crashing ever closer. But maybe the little bird focuses on the brilliant, tiny grains of quartz at his feet because the ocean is too much, too big, too incomprehensible.

"Laura? Love, talk to me." Chibs' voice was low and rough. He picked her hand up and laced their fingers.

Laura understood the sandpiper. There were questions she could not answer, questions she could not even comprehend enough to ask. She focused on what she understood. Leenie loved this man. And so did she.

"I'll be okay. I'll find my way in. If you help me."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 11:**

Chibs woke rock hard. Laura's head rested on his chest, but she was awake—very awake, her hand under his wife-beater, her fingertips trailing over his chest and belly, curling every now and then so that her nails scratched gently. When her hand traveled down farther, under the waistband of his boxers, and her fingers combed through the thatch of hair around his cock, he flexed his hips and groaned.

"Ah, love. What're you up to?"

His lovely lass raised her head and grinned at him, her blue eyes sparkling. "Just exploring. I like your body. It's all smooth and hard"—she flattened her hand and caressed his chest and belly as she spoke—"and I love the feel of your muscles. It's nice."

He growled and tried to roll over her, but she pressed down on his shoulder. "Wait. I'm not done yet." She bent to kiss his nipple, nipping at it gently, and then she kissed her way downward.

"Christ, Laura. What about Eileen?" It was daylight, so they could be seeing her any moment. She ended up spending at least half the night in bed with them at least half the time, anyway.

Laura looked up from her place at his hip. "I checked on her. She's still sound asleep. And I locked the door. So we're good." She pulled his cock out over his boxers and kissed it. "Unless you want me to stop."

With her little hand curled snugly around him and her pretty pink mouth hovering scant inches over him, he shook his head. "No. No, I don't want that." He closed his eyes and let her have her way. It was Christmas Eve, and at this rate it would be the best Christmas Chibs had had in years. Of course, he didn't need head to make that true. He needed only his pretty lasses.

Things were a bit off between them for a week or so after Thanksgiving. He'd really bollocksed the day, left Laura feeling abandoned. He hadn't accounted for Tig, either, and that boy needed to get himself straight soon. Chibs had met him in the ring, as he'd promised, and, for the first time, he'd flattened him, left him bleeding all over the mat. Tig was usually a bolder fighter than he was; he was fair sure the crazy bastard had been looking to get beat. He'd been happy to oblige.

For those few days, Laura had seemed guarded and unsure with him—she'd not said anything or been different with him in a way he could pin down, but he could tell that being around his family had spooked her. He'd spent as much time with her and Eileen and away from the Sons as he could. He'd wanted to have her around the club more before Christmas, but when she'd finally loosened up again, he was loath to risk losing that ease. So the next time she'd see the Sons would be tomorrow, Christmas Day. At least this time they'd be out at Juice and Frank's place.

He just wasn't sure how to bring her into his life.

Laura's tongue flicked sharply over the head of his cock, and he groaned. She couldn't take all of him by mouth, but she'd gotten adept at using her hands and mouth together, and she had a good tongue. A lovely tongue. She'd never given head before him. He found that fact both delightful and melancholy. She had so little experience. Often he was still struck with the idea that he was being unfair to her, wanting to bind her to him, to this life, when there was so little he could give her that she deserved. When he couldn't even bind her properly.

Not that he would, or could, set her away.

He hadn't spoken to Fiona since that last bilious phone call—on the same day he'd met Laura and Eileen. More than two months. Which wasn't so unusual, in fact. What was unusual is that he'd barely thought of her in all that time. He'd spoken to Kerrianne a few times, but had not mentioned Laura. He would not. Would never. He'd call her today to wish her a Happy Christmas, but he'd do it later, while he was out alone.

Laura sucked him sharply down, and his nerves sang out. His hips started to move in time with her. She'd been inexperienced, but she was a good learner. He showed her what he liked, and she did exactly that, and she had enough instinct to mix things up. When he felt her push her other hand into his boxers and take hold of his balls, he lost his train of thought with a grunt. "Christ, love. Sweet Christ almighty. That's good. Ah, your lovely mouth." She laughed around his cock, and the vibrations sailed pleasure through his veins.

She came up on her knees then and focused, no longer playing lazily, now driving him, with intent, toward release. Groaning, he reached down and grabbed at her, needing to touch her, but he came up with only a handful of t-shirt. They didn't sleep nude, so they didn't traumatize Eileen if she crawled into bed with them.

So he contented himself with clutching her head in his hands, changing her rhythm. When he felt the climax upon him, she did, too, and her hand wrapped around him clenched almost painfully. He needed to warn her. "Now, love. Christ, now!" But she didn't back off. Instead, she sucked harder, and he clenched his teeth to hold back the yell he felt rising in his throat. Dropping his hands from her head to clutch handfuls of the covers, he arched off the bed and shot into her mouth. She stayed on him until he was done. She'd not done that before.

"Ah, lass," he breathed, when he'd finally come down enough to remember words. "That was brilliant."

"Merry Christmas."

Indeed it was.

-oOo-

Later, Chibs and Laura made cranberry pancakes and sausage for Christmas Eve breakfast. Eileen set the table, using Christmas pictures she'd made as placemats. As he set the plates on the table, he looked over to the living room. He had a little tree next to the television, with wee colored lights and a construction paper chain Eileen had made. He'd hadn't had a Christmas tree since he'd left Ireland. Fuck, since he'd left Ireland, the extent of his Christmas celebration had been a meal with the Sons, then off to the clubhouse to drink Jameson and bang at least one 'Eater. He'd rarely even bought gifts for anyone other than Fee and Kerrianne. This year, he'd sent Kerrianne's gift right after Thanksgiving.

For Fiona, he'd done nothing.

"You want Irish this morning?"

Laura's smiling voice brought him back to the moment, and he turned to her. "What, love?" She waved the Jameson at him with a smile. "Ah. No, not this morning. Just black, I think." She nodded and handed him his coffee, and they sat with Eileen and had Christmas Eve breakfast.

Eileen was her usual, animated self. "Santa is coming tonight and I was good so I hope he leaves me a present under our tree. I hope he doesn't forget which tree to put it under. I hope he doesn't think I want him to leave one under both trees because then he'd say I'm greedy and not good and then he wouldn't leave me even one." Eileen turned to her mother, truly worried. "Mommy can we leave Santa a letter under Chibs' tree so he doesn't think I'm greedy?"

"You bet, bug. And don't worry. Santa knows how good you are, I promise. But we will definitely leave him a note, just to be sure."

Chibs loved this little girl with a force and power that hurt his chest. She'd been through a lot, but she was strong and good, and she wanted so little, was happy with so little. Like her mum. When, shortly after Thanksgiving, Chibs had asked her what she wanted Santa to bring her, she furrowed her fair wee brow and shook her head. "It's not nice to tell Santa what you want. It's not a present if you know what it is. He works very hard and brings the right toys for all the boys and girls."

Laura had told him later that the version of Santa she'd taught her girl had been the only way she could give Eileen Santa at all. She'd never been able to afford to do much, and she didn't want her baby disappointed on Christmas. Chibs thought that decision made in need had been a brilliant parenting move. He thought all the demands children made at Christmas was an offense. And Kerrianne, raised up in Jimmy O's luxury, had been a right brat about it when she was younger.

Which didn't mean that Chibs hadn't been on something of a pink spree for the past couple of weeks. Oh, Santa was coming. To both trees.

Laura and Eileen had a Christmas morning tradition of their own, and Laura was reluctant to include him. That hurt a little, but he understood. So their plan was Christmas Eve pizza and DVDs in their little studio, then Chibs would go back to his flat for the night. Then, after Laura and Eileen had had their peppermint cocoa and opened what Santa had left under their wee little silver and pink tree, they'd join him at his flat, where (unbeknownst to either Laura or Eileen), Santa will have been very generous to them both. From there, the Sons family day at Juice and Frank's place.

Laura had skipped the clubhouse Christmas party a week ago, and Chibs had been fine with that. Glad of it, in fact. He wanted her to find her way into his family, but a clubhouse party was not something he thought her ready for. That would come. In time. He hoped.

Eileen asked for more pancakes, and Laura got up to refill her plate. Then, out of the blue, Eileen said, "I'm glad Chibs is my daddy."

He'd just set his coffee down, which was good, because otherwise he'd have been choking on it. He heard a clatter in the kitchen as Laura fumbled the spatula against Eileen's plate. She came back immediately, and set the plate down in front of her daughter. "Why do you say that, ladybug?" She poured syrup and sat down.

Eileen, blissfully unaware that her question had caused any kind of turmoil, dug into her pancakes while she talked. Her mouth full, talking to her mother directly, she said, "Hayley has a mommy and a daddy and she asked if I have a daddy and I said no and then she said everybody has a daddy so I asked her what a daddy does." She swallowed. "And Hayley said that her daddy goes to work like her mommy and he takes her mommy and her in a car and they do things like go to the park and the store and the movies, and her mommy and daddy make food like breakfast, and her mommy and daddy go in bed together." She took another bite. "And Chibs goes to work like you do and he takes us sometimes in a big car or in our car and we go to the store. He didn't take us to a movie yet, but we went to the beach and that was fun like a movie. And he makes breakfast and dinner and sometimes lunch. And he doesn't take us in a car to the park but we walk which is almost the same I think. And you go in bed with him." She swallowed again, and this time paused for a long drink of milk. "And Hayley said that she loves her daddy and I love Chibs so that makes him my daddy." She turned to Chibs, grinning, her lips shiny with syrup and milk. Then she went back to her pancakes.

Chibs' hands were on his knees, gripping so hard his knuckles ached. He felt torn apart. Flayed. Disemboweled. And this sweet lass was looking back and forth between him and her mother, eating her breakfast, her expression open and innocent, totally unaware of the landmine she'd stepped on. He looked across the table at Laura. She was staring at him, unshed tears obscuring the blue of her eyes.

"I'm done now. Can I be excused?"

"Sure, bug. Go wash your face, please." Laura said it without looking away from him. Eileen cleared her dishes and went off to the bathroom, leaving the mine to explode behind her.

"Laura, I…" Chibs stopped. He'd been about to apologize, but he didn't know for what.

She shook her head. "No. We can't talk about it now. Not where she could hear. It'll have to be…God, after Christmas, I guess."

But they had to know how to handle Eileen in the meantime. It couldn't wait. "Love, I just—" His phone rang. Not his prepay. He checked it—Kerrianne. Sweet Jesus, of all the awful fucking timing. He almost dismissed it, but this was his girl, calling on Christmas Eve. He answered it, standing and walking away from the table as he did so.

"Hello, me lovely. Happy Christmas." He could hear the sounds of an airport before she responded.

"Happy Christmas, Da. Don't have much time, we're off tonight. Thought I'd call now, as I'll be on a plane soon."

"Ah, right. The ski holiday. Your ma with you?"

"No, Da. I'm with David. Remember—I told you about him. I've news."

Just then, Eileen came out of the bathroom and hugged his legs. "I love you Daddy!" Then, she scampered off to the living room to turn on the Disney Channel. Chibs closed his eyes and sent up a prayer that Kerrianne hadn't heard. Airports were loud; he held out a little hope.

He didn't know why he bothered. No one up there paid him any mind. "Who was that?," his daughter asked, her voice sharp.

Chibs didn't have an answer. "You say you've got news. It's good, I hope."

"Did a kid just call you _Daddy_?" She said it like the word disgusted her. Chibs felt sick himself. Everything was suddenly wobbling off its axis, and he couldn't move quickly enough to know how to set it all to rights.

"It's complicated, love. I'd need time to explain, and it doesn't sound like we have it now."

"No, we don't. David asked me to marry him. I said yes. Goodbye, Da."

"That's great—." He didn't bother saying more. The line had gone quiet.

He put his phone away and turned back to the table. Laura had cleared it, and he could hear her rinsing the dishes. He went in and stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. She tensed and stopped rinsing, turning off the faucet. "I know we need to talk, and I know we can't do it now. But I'd be honored for that sweet lass to call me her da."

Laura turned around, her eyes flashing. Her voice was a whisper, but she bit it out. "It's not an honorary title, Chibs. It _means_ something. It's a _commitment_. You _have_ a daughter. God, you have a _wife_." She pushed him, and he stepped back. "We can't talk about this now. And I'm not about to ruin Leenie's Christmas with it. Not after everything this year. So…let's just…let's just deal. For now. We'll figure it out when we can."

He nodded, deferring. She was right. They couldn't stand here in the kitchen and discuss it in whispers, and they wouldn't be able to get time alone until tomorrow night at the earliest. "Alright. But Laura, I know it means something. God, I know. And I love Eileen. I _love_ her." He put his hand on her cheek, his thumb tracing the sweet swell of her lower lip. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. He said the thing he had not yet said. "Ah, lass. I love _you_."

The tears that had been brimming since Eileen's innocent proclamation spilled over, and Laura sobbed quietly. "I love you, too. That's why this hurts so much."

He pulled her close and tucked her head under his chin. She clutched at him and sobbed harder, trying to stay quiet. He turned the faucet back on to give her some cover. "It needn't hurt, lass. We love each other, yeah? That's good. The rest we'll get sorted."

His prepay rang. Sweet Mother Mary, what the hell. Still holding Laura, he pulled it out of his pocket and answered without looking. "What?!"

It was Juice. "Chibs, man. We got a problem, and Jax is calling everybody in. Tig's on a tear, and he just rode off. He's looking for trouble, and he's drunk out of his mind."

"Christ, brother. It's not even 10 o'clock. What the fuck set him off?"

"Dunno. Might be the unconscious woman we found in the apartment."

"Right. On me way." He closed the prepay. Tig could do with a simple garroting, Chibs thought.

"I'm so sorry, love. I've got to go. I'll see you tonight, yeah? Pizza and Charlie Brown?"

She nodded, sniffling. He kissed her forehead. He grabbed his kutte off the hook near the door and shrugged it on. Then he went to Eileen, sitting on the floor in front of Disney, and kissed her head. "I'll see you later, pretty. You have a good day."

"Okay. Bye, Daddy."

Chibs felt a stab at his heart.

-oOo-

It was late afternoon before they finally tracked him down. In a bar in Sacramento. Chibs, Joey, Bobby, and Happy had teamed by then, as Tig's trail narrowed. And quite a trail he'd left. He'd been drinking and riding all day. They saw his bike as they parked their own. They went in, all of them furious for the hours-long Christmas Eve hunt he'd forced them on, and ready to do what the fuck ever they had to do to get him back on the leash.

Happy went in first, and held his arm out as Chibs came up behind him, then Bobby and Joey. Most of the dives they'd been trailing him through were all but empty, but this one, near dusk on Christmas Eve, was full, and the crowd was the roughneck sort. Most of them looked up when the Sons went in, and they didn't look concerned. Not hostile, but not intimidated, either, even with Hap in the lead. They weren't anywhere near Sons turf, so they needed to tread carefully.

That was the theory, anyway. Tig had other ideas. He was at the bar. He turned as they approached him and laughed. "Aw, fuck. What the fuck do you assholes want?"

Hap leaned on the bar next to him. "Time to go home, brother. We got your mess cleaned up. Girl's gonna be okay. You can come home, no problem."

"My mess? My _mess_? Yeah, fuck you, Hap." He turned away and tossed his drink back.

Hap put his hand on Tig's arm, and that's all it took. Tig yanked his arm away and threw his empty glass. It crashed against a wall, over a table with three guys that looked like they had no more qualms about getting scrappy on Christmas Eve than Tig did.

And it was on.

Chibs was pissed, of course he was. It was Christmas Eve, for fuck's sake, and the day had been fraught already, before Tig had pulled this shite. Fuck, he'd told Laura he loved her, and she'd told him, but it had hardly been the lovely, romantic moment such a thing should be. And Eileen. Sweet Eileen. What a bloody mess.

But he was also invigorated. He loved a good brawl, and this was a very good one. He had tension and frustration to work off, and this was just the way. He caught Hap's eye in the midst of a melee, and could see the glee even behind his snarl. Tig would have a rough time in the ring soon over all this, but for now, Chibs happily ducked a fist, grabbed the guy who'd thrown it, and mashed him in the face.

He yanked Joey out of a scrum, and then Hap grabbed his shoulder. "We gotta go, brother. Now." Then Chibs heard the sirens. He yelled for Bobby.

They had trouble getting Tig loose, and by the time they had, the sirens were loud. Chibs ran to the door, but he could tell the cops were in the parking lot already. He waved everybody back, and they ran through the kitchen, running headlong into three cops, guns drawn and yelling.

Within seconds, all five of them, as well as several of their sparring buddies, were on the floor, hands behind their backs.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 12:**

Laura turned off the television. Leenie was curled up in the crook of her arm, quiet. Too quiet. Though she'd been happy and bubbly all day, making Chibs a present and helping Laura bake cookies in their tiny oven, as the evening waned with no sign of him, she'd pulled into herself. She hadn't eaten her pizza, and Laura didn't think she'd done more than stare at the television while Charlie Brown and then Rudolph were on.

"Think it's time for sleep, bug. Why don't you go wash your face and brush your teeth, and we'll set out some cookies for Santa."

She nodded, scooted off the bed, and went into the bathroom. When she came out, they made a plate of cookies and a mug of milk to leave out for Santa. Still Leenie said almost nothing.

Laura cuddled up with her in bed, and they read _The Christmas Day Kitten_, which they'd checked out of the Charming Public Library. Usually, Leenie ran a commentary while they read, filling in extra details to the story or, when they were reading a new book, asking questions. This time, she sat quietly, holding her bunny and sucking her thumb, paying attention but not participating.

When Laura tucked her in, Leenie asked the question Laura feared. "I thought Chibs is my daddy but then he went away. If he's mad to be my daddy I won't say it anymore. Can you tell him so he won't go away?"

If he wasn't hurt, Laura would take care of that herself if she ever saw him again. If he'd bailed on them—on Leenie, on Christmas, right after she'd called him Daddy—Laura would…well, she didn't know what she'd do, but she'd think of something memorable.

She pulled her daughter onto her lap and held her tight. She didn't know what the right thing to say would be. She didn't know how to make Leenie feel better. "Oh, ladybug. Chibs loves you. He told me. He'll be back, and everything will be okay." She prayed she wasn't lying.

-oOo-

Two days. No word for two days. The two days of Christmas, in fact. Laura's calls and texts had gone unreturned.

Leenie was so sad. Withdrawn. They'd woken on Christmas morning, a big box from Santa, wrapped in silver paper with pink snowflakes and a big pink bow, sitting next to their little thrift-store silver and pink tabletop tree. Leenie had barely reacted. When Laura cajoled her into unwrapping it, she was sweet, answering in the affirmative when Laura asked her if she liked the huge bucket of basic Legos Santa had brought—replacing a beloved toy that they hadn't had room to pack in the Taurus, and for which Laura had saved for weeks—but the bucket was still sealed the next morning. Leenie had spent Christmas Day holding Mr. Snuffles and staring at the television, her thumb in her mouth.

Laura had spent it drowning in a tidal wave of rampant emotions.

She'd been veering wildly between anxiety and anger since Christmas Eve. If he was hurt, then he was hurt badly, and she didn't know how to get to him. But if he wasn't hurt, if he'd simply left her little girl to stare at the door on Christmas, then she wanted him hurt badly.

But she couldn't think like that. She didn't want him to be hurt. Even if he'd bailed on them, she didn't want him to be hurt.

Oh, God. What if this was about that phone call? That had been his daughter. His actual daughter. Laura had tried not to eavesdrop, but she'd heard enough to know who was on the other side of that call. Oh, God.

He hadn't called; nobody had called. And Laura didn't have anybody but him to call. She'd tried the Teller-Morrow garage, but no one had answered—because it was Christmas Day. She didn't know numbers for any of the people she'd met on Thanksgiving. She didn't even know last names. She'd looked up Teller and Morrow, thinking one of those should be Jax, but had no luck. Probably unlisted. She supposed outlaws usually were.

She felt completely disconnected from everything. She hadn't felt this lost when they were living in her car. Then, at least, her anxiety had a focus, and the appropriate emotions were obvious. Their problems had been clear. Unsolvable, but clear. Now, she was being torn apart by worry and fury.

And guilt. She had done this. She had let this man into her daughter's life. Focused on the sand at her feet, she had missed the ocean.

And its undertow.

-oOo-

He called the day after Christmas, while Leenie was napping after lunch. Laura didn't pick up. He didn't leave a message.

With that call, and the idea it brought that he was okay, Laura picked fury. There was something paradoxically calming about being able to choose an emotion, and she let it have her.

When he knocked, just past dusk, Leenie was in the bathroom, and Laura was washing up after they'd had cookies and milk. They were already in their pajamas; Laura had suggested they just get in bed to cuddle and read until bedtime. Laura had called in sick to work and stayed home, because she was so worried that Leenie had shut down. She'd have to make that money up; hopefully, she'd be able to take on an extra shift or two soon. Three days off would hurt come rent day.

Leenie had finally started to perk up a little in the afternoon. She'd gotten into her new Legos and had spent a good part of the rest of the day with them. She was still too, too quiet, but Laura was feeling the first tickle of relief that Chibs hadn't utterly broken her daughter.

She knew it was him at the door; he had a distinctive way of knocking. Panicked, darting a look to the bathroom to make sure that door was still closed, she hurried to the front door. She had to get rid of him before Leenie came out. Leaving the security chain on, she opened the door and glared through the crack.

There was a cut on his forehead, closed with a butterfly bandage, and his eye was bruised a little, but otherwise he looked fine.

"Laura, love. I'm so sorry. Let me in, and I'll explain."

She shook her head. "No. Fuck off." When she started to close the door, he slammed his open hand on it and pushed back.

He gave her a fierce look, and then called out, "Where's me pretty lass?"

Laura heard her daughter gasp with excitement—dammit, she was out of the bathroom. "Yay! You came back! Yay!"

"You son of a bitch. You don't get to do that," Laura snarled, her voice low.

Then Leenie was behind her, trying to push in front of her. "Yay! Mommy, yay!" She reached through the crack and grabbed at Chibs, and he squatted and took her hand.

"Hello, pretty. I missed you. Did Santa come?"

Leenie pulled on Laura's sleep shirt with her free hand. "Mommy the door's not big enough."

She didn't know what to do. She wanted to claw his eyes out for using her little girl like that. Rage and hate roiled in her blood—fomented, confusingly, by relief that he was there and okay. But Leenie was so excited. She was happy again, just like that. No bitterness, just forgiveness.

If Laura closed the door, what would she say to her? What did she know? What was right?

_This is a mistake_, she thought, then pulled Leenie back so she could close the door. She released the chain and let Chibs in.

Leenie wrapped her arms around his legs, and he bent down and picked her up. "I was sad because you didn't come. Santa came but you didn't and I was sad. But now you're here." She gently touched the cut on his forehead. "You got hurt."

"Just a wee scratch. I'm right as rain."

Her smile fluttered and faded, and her voice changed pitch, got serious. "I'm sorry it made you mad and go away when I said you're my daddy. I won't say it anymore so you don't go away."

Chibs hugged Leenie tightly and then kissed her nose, making her wrinkle it up. His beard tickled her. "It didn't make me mad, pretty. It made me happy. I didn't mean to go away." He looked at Laura. She could see him trying to tell her something, and she could see what it was: he was sorry. But she was furious for the way he'd used Leenie to force his way in, and she didn't understand where the hell he'd gone. Her little girl had been so sad. If they'd stayed away from him, Leenie wouldn't have known that heartbreak.

God, she was confused.

Chibs bounced Leenie in his arms. "Santa made another stop. Guess where?"

Her eyes opened wide. "Your house?"

"Aye, pretty. He left something for you there, too."

Laura wanted to kick him. She almost did. She'd _told_ him about the Santa Leenie knew, and why. Bringing Santa into his gift-giving would only confuse her, and complicate future Christmases if—_when_—she and Leenie were on their own again.

"Oh, no." She turned a worried face to Laura. "Mommy what if he didn't see my letter? What if he thinks I wanted presents under both trees?"

Chibs answered, stepping right in on a question she'd directed to her mom. Laura could not _wait_ to get this asshole alone. "No, lass. I think Santa saw your letter. Maybe you were extra good this year. You should come see."

God, what was he doing? She should throw him out. Should she throw him out? Dammit, what was the right thing here? How should she handle it with Leenie?

"You want to put your clothes on and go to Chibs' house for a little while, bug?"

"Yes, please!" She wriggled out of Chibs' hold and ran to the dresser.

"We'll be right outside." She grabbed him by the kutte and pulled him to the walkway. By the time she closed the door, his hands were on her, trying to pull her close. She shoved him off.

"Laura, please. I can explain—"

"Shut up! You go right now and make it so there's one present from Santa under that tree. ONE. No more. I don't know what you did over there, but I swear to GOD, if you made it so she thinks Santa will bring her a bagful of presents I will hurt you." She was shaking so hard it was difficult to focus her vision. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to breathe.

"Love, will you talk to me?" He reached out, but she flinched away.

"Oh, we'll talk. But right now, get away. We'll be over in 15 minutes."

"Dammit, Laura. There's no call to be angry. If you'll listen—"

"No call? Are you _kidding_ me? Do you know—no. We'll talk later." She went back in and closed the door, engaging the chain.

-oOo-

They walked over. Leenie carefully held the little present she'd made for Chibs, which was a picture she'd drawn and then made a paper frame for. Laura hated that picture, but she was finding herself completely incapable of knowing how to talk to Leenie about Chibs and set her expectations safely. Maybe there simply _wasn't_ a safe way to talk about him.

He was standing outside waiting for them, still with that apologetic look on his face, though it wasn't sitting as steadily now. Now she could see frustration and maybe anger wavering in his eyes. She'd show him anger. He opened the door, and she and Leenie went in first.

Oh, God. There were at least a dozen presents under his tree. Had he just ignored her? She glared at him, and the son of a bitch _smiled_.

Leenie stood at the tree, agape. "Did Santa leave all these?" She set her little present, wrapped in red tissue paper, on the floor in front of the tree.

"No, lass. Some are from me." He glanced at Laura, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of softening her look. "They're not all for you, now. Can you read the tags?"

Leenie nodded and sat on her knees by the gifts. She picked one sitting right in front and read. "To Eileen, from Santa," and she gasped. "Mommy, from Santa!"

"Wow, bug. This must be a very special year." She sat in the corner of Chibs' couch, as far to the end as she could. He sat down, too, in the middle. He didn't touch her. Good.

"Uh-huh. Maybe he was sad that we got lost and had to stay in the car so long."

Laura's heart thumped. When they'd had to leave their house, she had told Leenie that they were taking a trip. She'd been hoping at first to find a place to stay. When that hadn't happened, she'd told Leenie they were lost but they'd just have to be patient and careful, and they'd find their way again. She had no idea if that had been a good thing to say, but she hadn't been able to find a way to say _we're homeless, and nobody wants us_ to her little girl.

"I bet that's it." She looked over again at Chibs, who was watching her, his eyes steady, like he was waiting for her to see something. She wasn't interested in what that might be.

Leenie opened her present from Santa: a Hello Kitty tea set. "Yay, Mommy! Hello Kitty!"

She started to open the box, but Chibs suggested that she should hand out and open the rest of the packages before playing with her new tea set. Nodding soberly, she picked up another, a small, square box, and read the tag: "To La—La-u-ra. Laura. Mommy that's you! Love C. C? I don't know who C is."

"S'me, lass. Chibs. C-H-I-B-S."

"Oh! You forgot some letters, though."

"Aye, you're right. Sorry."

"That's okay. I can help you with letters if you want."

Chibs grinned. "I'd like that, pretty."

Laura still wanted to punch him. He was sitting there acting like everything was normal—acting _fatherly_—and nothing was normal about anything.

Leenie handed her the small box, and Laura set it down on the low table in front of the couch and pushed it away. She was not interested. From the corner of her eye, she could see him watch her set it away. He looked at her for a few more seconds, and then turned back to Leenie, who was walking to him with her little present for him.

"For me? Well, thank you." He opened the paper. Leenie had drawn the three of them. A family. The disquiet Laura had felt when Leenie had drawn it was now real turmoil. She hated it.

Chibs, though, did not. He looked down at it for several seconds, then reached for Leenie's arm and pulled her close. "It's brilliant, pretty. It's perfect."

When Leenie was done, in addition to her tea set, she had other Hello Kitty toys, new Barbies and Barbie clothes, a Barbie car, Candyland, books, and two new Disney DVDs, all from Chibs, who'd gotten lots of hugs and kisses for his efforts to—what, bribe?—her daughter. She was in heaven, but she was overwhelmed, too, unable to focus on any one toy. Laura had no idea what she was going to do with all this crap in their tiny little studio.

Sitting on the table in front of her were three wrapped gifts, one of them fairly big. Laura was still not interested.

"Mommy open your presents!"

"Later, bug. I want to watch you play for now."

"But I wanna see." Leenie thought for a minute. "Can I open them? Then you can watch and I can see."

"Sure, bug." Grinning hugely, Leenie rolled her Barbies in their fancy car off to the side, amidst all the discarded wrapping, and came up to the table.

Like any kid, she went for the biggest one first and tore the paper off in shreds. Leenie looked at the box for a minute, then at her mom. Then she shrugged, not interested, and went for the next biggest.

She'd unwrapped a laptop. God. And not a cheap little thing, either. Laura tried to look like she didn't care, but she was shocked and dismayed. That was too much. Too much. So much it wasn't a gift, it was charity.

She hadn't brought her gift for him with her, and now she never, ever wanted him to see it, even if they somehow managed to get beyond this day. She couldn't afford much, but she'd thought it was a cute idea. Now, she was mortified.

Leenie had opened the next gift, a book—a biography of Elizabeth Bishop. Again, Leenie looked at her mom, waited for a reaction, didn't get one, and then set the book on top of the laptop box. She went for the third and final gift, losing some of her enthusiasm, keying off Laura's stoicism and Chibs' frustration.

When Leenie took the lid off the small box, she furrowed her brow again. "Mommy I don't know what it says."

"Let me see, bug." Leenie brought the box to her. Inside, circling a velvet form, was a gold nameplate bracelet. It was beautiful, and the perfect gift. As was the book. "That's your name, in cursive—fancy writing. See, look: E-I-L-E-E-N. Eileen."

"That's pretty. You can wear it and when you see it you'll think about me."

"That's right. But I think about you every minute already." She couldn't deal with this anymore. Everything in her head and heart was in a raging tumult, and she was going to crack under its force. "Why don't you play with all your great new toys for a few minutes? Chibs and I are going to talk."

"Okay are you going in bed?"

God. "No, bug. But we do need some grownup time. If you need me, though, just knock, okay?"

"Okay." She sat back down in her little pink avalanche, perfectly content.

Laura stood and looked directly at Chibs for the first time in a long while. His eyes were already on her. He nodded and stood, and they went back to his bedroom and closed the door. There was another wrapped gift on the bed, a flat, oblong box. A lingerie box.

Chibs wheeled on her as soon as the door was closed and grabbed her by her arms. His voice was low and controlled, but he was angry, too, and she could hear its force even as he whispered.

"You're going to sit down, shut up, and listen before you say a fuckin' word. You're going to hear me the fuck out. Do you understand me?"

Struggling against his grip, she whispered the same venom back at him. "Who do you think you are? You don't get to make demands like that. Especially not after all this!"

He shook her hard enough to make her neck ache. "_Do you understand me_?"

His eyes were wild, and his grip was tight. Laura could feel his tension and his rage, and it made her afraid. But she set her jaw. "Talk. Make it good, because you won't get another chance."


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

**Chapter 13:**

Chibs walked Laura backward and sat her down on the bed. Her hand brushed her last gift, one he'd been especially excited about, and she shoved it away like it was contaminated. His anger spiked just a bit more. Christ, he was so fucking angry—at her, at himself, the club, Tig, the cops, everybody. He felt like he had only a slender thread of control left. Watching her set aside his gifts with barely a glance had taxed that thread severely. He should have stayed away until he was calmer, but it was being away that was making him mental.

He'd been in a barely contained frenzy since they'd been hauled in from the bar. In addition to generally being pissed off about being arrested—dealing with asshole cops who carried their dicks in their holsters, getting roughed up and having to take it, then having their rights arse-fucked while Sac law and San Joa law tried to coordinate and make some hay over the meth kitchen fire—he'd known full well he was returning to hell's fury when they finally did get released. The timing for a disappearance could not have been any worse. Christmas. With Eileen calling him Daddy. He was clearly on God's special "People to Fuck Up" list.

It had been well into Christmas Day before they'd even gotten their phone calls. By then, he didn't use his to reach Laura because he hadn't known how to explain. He knew the damage was done, and he had to get to her to repair it.

That's what he'd thought, but it seemed she didn't want to let him repair it. He stepped back and paced the room. She'd been completely unreasonable since she'd answered her door, coming at him like a viper, not even interested in what he had to say. What _did_ he have to say? That he and his brothers had spent the past two days in Sacramento County jail cells, getting worked because it was Christmas, and the cops were prone to "misplacing" paperwork and other general "inefficiencies" on a holiday?

Yes. That's what he needed to say—simple and straight out. He turned back to her; she was staring at him, her eyes narrow. He saw no love for him there at all. "I was locked up, Laura. That's why I wasn't with you for Christmas. I spent it in a bloody jail cell. Believe me, I'd've rather been with you and Eileen."

He'd surprised her, at least, and her eyes widened. But he hadn't made the impression he'd hoped. She crossed her arms. "You think that's better? You think that fixes it?"

It _should_ fix it. It was true, and a damn fine excuse. "Aye. I do. It should."

She snorted, and it wasn't the sweet snort of a laugh that got away from her. It was contempt. "Sorry, Leenie. Chibs couldn't be with us because he's a _fucking criminal_. Oh, yeah, that fixes everything right up." Spending so much of her time with her little girl, Laura rarely swore, and it thus sounded especially harsh when she did. Chibs didn't like it. And he hated what she'd just said. A fresh blade of rage shot through him; he could feel that last thread fraying. She started to stand, and he shoved her back down and grabbed her face in his hand, his fingers and thumb digging into her cheeks. He knew he should back off, that he risked hurting her, but he couldn't make his fingers relax. He leaned down, almost nose to nose with her.

"You _know_ what I am. I've been straight with you. Aye, I am a criminal. Didn't seem to bother you when you were climbing all over me, begging me to fuck you."

Even as he still clutched her face, she slapped him, and she put everything she had into it. The blow landed on his bruised cheekbone and hurt like hell. He released her face to rub at his cheek and she leapt up and went for the door. He pulled her away and threw her on the bed. When she tried to scoot to the edge, he dropped down on top of her. As she hit at him wherever she could reach, he grabbed her wrists and held them down.

The whole scrimmage had been almost silent, a brutal ballet, both of them, even in their own extremity, cognizant of the little girl in the other room.

She was sobbing quietly, still fighting him, but she had no leverage now. "Please let me go. I have to get out of here. Please. Just please. I can't…I can't." She stopped fighting and simply cried.

Faced with her distress, his anger evaporated and control returned. He was being a beast. "Laura, that was a shite thing I said. I'm sorry. I know you're angry. I know I made Eileen sad. And I am so sorry. But I need you to listen to me." He kissed her cheek, red from his fingers and wet from her tears. "Will you sit with me and listen?"

Her breathing heavy and erratic, Laura closed her eyes. He kissed her other cheek. With her pliant beneath him now, and moved by her pain, he kissed her, running his tongue lightly over her lips. She didn't kiss him back. "Please, love. I can make this right. I can."

Without opening her eyes, she whispered, "I don't see how."

"Then listen, and let me show you." When she finally nodded, he eased off her and helped her up to a sitting position. They sat facing each other on the bed. He took her hands, and she didn't fight him.

"I'm sorry for what I said. Truly. It was shite, and I didn't mean it. I said it to hurt you, because I was pissed, and that's shite, too. What happened on Christmas Eve is this: we went to help a brother." He considered, and then decided that as much disclosure as possible was the right way. He didn't much mind throwing Tig under the train a little. "It was Tig. I told you he's having troubles. He was drunk and sharing his troubles with civilians. We ended up in a bar fight, and we got hauled in."

She opened her mouth and began to speak, then stopped. He gave her hands a gentle shake. "Go on, lass, s'alright."

"But why so long?"

"Law's got no love for a kutte. Club like the Sons, they know us. They fuck with us when they can. When they know they can't hold us, they fuck with us more, because they know we won't squawk about it unless we're charged. They…delayed our release. Just to fuck with our holiday." She didn't need to know that they were pressed hard on the meth kitchen fire.

"So, you weren't charged?" He could see her working it through, coming back to him, slowly.

He shook his head. Nobody was interested in the time and effort to prosecute a bar brawl. "No, love. No charges. Just fuckery."

"I didn't know where you were or if you were hurt. I didn't have anybody to call. Nobody called me."

"I'm sorry about that. I'll get you numbers. And we need to get you deeper into the family. No one thought to call you." When he'd realized that, when he'd known the full dimension of what Laura and Eileen had gone through, he'd been livid—at himself and at the club. Laura had been nervous about the club after Thanksgiving, and, afraid to scare her more, he'd pulled back with her, not even trying to bring her in. He should have at least made sure she knew how to reach the old ladies in exactly the kind of situation he'd found himself. And he should have made sure someone would reach out to her.

But Gemma should have known to call her. He suspected that she'd thought of Laura and had decided not to let her know. She could be a scheming bitch, but if she'd done that, intentionally let Laura swing, then he and she would have words.

Laura was over the worst of her anger; he could see it. But now she was shaking her head, slowly, sadly. "Chibs, _Leenie_. It broke her heart. She thinks you went away because she called you Daddy. I didn't know what to say, because I thought so, too."

"I know. I'll make it right—but we have to talk about that, too, don't we?"

She let out an abrupt sigh, almost a laugh, but devoid of humor. "God. It's too much. My head can't hold all this. Or my heart."

"Easy, love. One thing at a time. Am I forgiven for being away? Do you understand?" She didn't say anything, but she didn't look away. He put his hand on her face, gently this time, and leaned in to brush his lips over hers. When he met her eyes again, she nodded.

Relaxing, he grinned. "Thank you. Next thing. Do you love me?" She flinched at that, and he tightened his hand around her chin ever so slightly. "Tell me, lass." She nodded, and he kissed her again. Against her lips, he whispered, "Say it."

"I love you." He felt a thin drop of warm liquid hit his finger; she was crying again.

"No tears. I love you. And I love Eileen. I wish I were her da. I'd like to be."

Laura pulled her head out of his hand and turned away. "You can't be, Chibs. You _can't_. You already have a family. I can't just let Leenie call you Daddy when you can't make us any kind of promise. That's too confusing for her. God, it's too confusing for me, too."

"I _can_ make you promises, love. I want to. I can take care of you both. I can be there. Me marriage is…it's not in our way. Fee don't want me. And now I don't want her."

She'd been shaking her head as he talked. "It _is_ in our way. It's in the way of you being Leenie's dad, at least. You're not her father, you can't be her stepfather, and I'm not going to let her think a man is her daddy when we can't be a family."

He thought they'd have more time together before they got to this fight. But he supposed having a child in the mix sped up the timeline. "I know what you're asking, and I'm sorry. Divorce isn't an option. I took a vow before God."

She made that humorless, huffing laugh again. "But there's room in that vow to bang the sandwich girl?"

That hurt almost as much as the slap. "That's not fair, Laura."

"Isn't it? Really? Then I really don't understand." She stopped and stared at him. He could see she wasn't finished, so he waited, watching as she closed her eyes and regrouped.

When she opened her eyes again, she seemed a bit calmer. "Look, I'm not saying that we should be married or that I even want to be, to anyone. I have no idea. I'm not saying I want to end it—this—whatever. I'm just saying that you are not my daughter's father. You're not Daddy. The person who gets to be her Daddy will take _that_ vow before God. I'm saying that we have to figure out what you are to her and how to talk to her about it so that she understands. No—_I_ have to figure that out, and I need some time."

"No." Chibs had a feeling that if Laura took time away from him now, she'd talk herself out of what they had. And he wasn't going to let them go.

"No? What no? No to what?" Anger crept into the edges of her eyes and her voice again.

"No to time. No to thinking you have to figure it out on your own. It's your call, love, but you're not alone."

"Chibs…"

Impatient to convince her, he took her face in his hands again, careful to be gentle. "Laura, listen. We can have everything but the marriage, if that's what we want. We can live together. We can raise Eileen together. We can be a family, if that's what we want. Fiona is in Ireland, and there, she's made it very clear for many years, she will stay. She is not in our way."

"She's in _my_ way, then."

He sighed and, for the moment, conceded. "Where does that leave us, then?"

"I love you, and Leenie loves you. I want you in our life. I just need to work out how to talk to her and get her to understand why you're not her daddy—and who, then, you are."

"What does she know about her father?" He'd never asked. He wasn't sure this was the time, but the question was there, and he asked it.

She didn't seem offended. "Nothing at all. The daddy conversation came up once, when she was about three and a half. She asked if she had one, I said no, that families come in all kinds of ways, and our family was just the two of us. Until now, she'd been happy with that idea."

"What does he know of her?"

"Nothing. He was out of town before he knew I was pregnant. He was out of my life the same night he made me that way."

"Laura?" Something about her answer sounded off, like there was a story he should hear.

She got up off the bed. "Doesn't matter. Not interesting. Look, it's late. I'm going to see if I can get Leenie to take a break from the ridiculous number of gifts you bought her, and I'm going to take her home."

She went to the door, but he rose and stopped her. "Laura, I don't like this. It doesn't feel like we've sorted the problem."

"We haven't, but I can't think or feel any more about this right now, or I will lose my mind."

He took her hand off the doorknob and pulled her close, sliding his hand under her red hoodie. "Stay with me. Feel something else with me." He bent down and kissed her. First, she tried to push away, but he held her tight, and she relaxed and leaned into him. When she kissed him back, he pressed her up against the door and deepened the kiss.

His lips on her lips, he whispered, "That's the way, love. Let me make it better."

She turned away and put her hands up to push on his shoulders. Reluctantly, he backed off. She was panting and flushed, but there was steel in her dark blue eyes.

"Chibs, Leenie's playing out there. I'm going. We're going. I need to straighten out my head."

He felt sure that if he could get her into bed, he could straighten her out nicely, but she was right. He couldn't very well fuck her with Eileen playing dolls twenty feet away. If he pressed her any further even to stay the night, he might lose the ground he'd just struggled to regain. So he kissed her forehead. "Alright. I love you, Laura. You told me you trusted me. Remember? Do."

-oOo-

As the sun rose, Chibs sat in the living room, staring at Laura's gifts on the table in front of him, and Eileen's gifts on the floor beyond that. Wrapping paper still lay everywhere. The Disney Channel was playing on the television; he hadn't bothered to turn it off or change it after Eileen and her mother had left the night before. He'd just gone for his whiskey and settled himself in for a good, sad drunk. He'd hoped to pass out cold, but, somehow, hadn't managed more than a couple hours' nap.

She hadn't taken his gifts. She hadn't rejected them outright; she simply had disregarded them, as if they were meaningless. And the one still wrapped, he wondered if she'd ever even open it. He wondered what it meant that she didn't want any of them.

Though it had meant more than one trip to the mall, he had enjoyed shopping for his pretty lasses. He'd been anticipating a lovely Christmas, happier than he'd had in years. Instead, he'd spent it in jail, and now he was alone. If he left her to "straighten out her head" on her own, he felt sure he'd stay alone.

She was too young for him, too young for the life he brought with him. It was more than she could handle. She already had as much as she could handle. And he couldn't take care of her properly. He'd known all that, and he'd tried to keep some distance. But he hadn't succeeded, and now it was too late. He loved her, and her daughter. He should let them go, but he wouldn't. He wasn't that fucking noble.

She'd called him her hero, but he wasn't. He wasn't a hero, or a gentleman, or even a decent human being. He was just a man, and he'd been alone too bloody long.

-oOo-

"Hey, Chibs?"

At Gordo's call, he looked out from under the Kia he was working on. Laura was standing next to the Prospect, just inside the bay nearest the garage office. She was wearing her work uniform—jeans and a blue t-shirt with the yellow logo for the deli. Her hair was pulled back in a long, straight, golden ponytail.

He was shocked to see her. After the way she'd left the night before, he'd expected that he'd be the one who'd close the distance. He'd planned to get persuasive that evening. Wiping the oil and grease off his hands, he crossed the garage and came to her. Gordo backed off and headed toward the work counter.

"Hello, love."

The look she turned up to him was sweet and shy. "Hey. You okay?"

"Not really."

She reached out and caught the tail of his work shirt in her hands. Pulling on it gently, she said, "Got off at 3 today. I don't have to pick up Leenie until 6." She looked up into his face and smiled at him, her expression wide open and her eyes bright.

He didn't understand why the sudden, dramatic change, but he didn't actually care, not at that moment. Maybe later he would. For now, he was just relieved. He grabbed her and pulled her close, then bent down and took her mouth, kissing her hard, trying to make her feel that she was his. That they neither of them had a fucking choice anymore. She moaned sweetly, and her arms snaked around his neck.

He heard whistles and applause, and he set her back. They were in the damn garage; he didn't want her embarrassed. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Juice and Joey standing at the office door, looking on like Olympic judges. Gemma stood watching behind them. He still needed to deal with her.

Turning back to Laura, who to her credit seemed not to be paying the cavemen behind him any notice, he asked, "Want to take a ride?"

She'd not yet been on his bike. No room for Eileen. In fact, this would be the first time they'd be truly alone since they'd met. She regarded him for a moment, clearly considering his question. When she smiled and nodded, he turned back toward the back of the garage.

"Gordo! Kia—oil and lube. Finish it." Then he shrugged out of his work shirt and replaced it with his kutte. He took Laura's hand and led her out to the lot, past her woebegone Taurus and to his bike.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**CHAPTER 14:**

Laura ran back to her car to grab her jacket. When she came up to his bike, Chibs handed her his helmet. "Ever been on a bike before, love?"

No, she most definitely had not. Her relationship with Chibs was full of firsts. "Nope."

"If you trust me, it's not hard. Keep your feet on these pegs." He pointed toward the back wheel. "Stay away from the exhaust—it gets hot. Hold close to me, and move with me, not against me." He slid his fingers into one of the front pockets of her jeans and bent down to put his mouth against her ear. His voice a low rumble, he murmured, "You'll like it. So will I." That was hot.

She turned her head and kissed his cheek. Then she put the helmet on her head, but it felt weird, and she fumbled the strap. Grinning, he took it off, shortened the strap, and put it back on, snapping the clasp. He brushed her nose with his finger. "Where'd you like to go?"

She knew exactly. "We don't have tons of time, so just back to your place?"

He stopped in the middle of putting his gloves on and looked at her. "Aye?" She didn't know quite why, but his surprise at that made her happy.

"Yeah, I pretty much want to jump your bones."

He grinned. "Don't like to argue with that. But we need to talk, yeah?"

They did. She'd talked to Leenie, and maybe had worked out a way for them to be, at least for now. That talk with her girl had calmed Laura down a lot. The future still didn't make sense, but she had always been foremost a day-to-day thinker. The future was too vast to try to organize or even understand. "I know. But bones first, okay?"

"Aye." He mounted his bike. "On you go, me love. Hold tight." She slid her leg over and scooted up close behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Already she loved this, his body snug between her legs and arms. He picked up her hand and kissed it, then put it back against his belly. He pulled through the lot and onto the street. The vibrations coming through the seat teased at the nerves between her legs. Oh, wow. Then he turned the corner, the bike leaning to one side. She did what he said, followed the lead of his body, and leaned into the turn with him.

Oh, wow. Oh, God. That was amazing. Like foreplay. Laura found it difficult to keep still. Feeling daring, she moved a hand from Chibs' waist down to his crotch. He was hard. Very hard. She left her hand where it was.

-oOo-

When he parked in front of his apartment, he held out his arm for her to hold as she climbed off. Then he swung his leg over and grabbed her, slamming her body against his and his mouth on hers. His hand was hard on the back of her head, under the helmet. He was being rougher than he'd ever been, save that night in front of her apartment. Then she'd been scared. Now, she was not. Now, she was excited. She looped her arms around his neck and tried to kiss him back the same way. He growled, his hands clutching her head and waist even harder, and Laura shivered with pleasure.

As he kissed her, he walked her backward until she hit his door. Still kissing, he managed to get his key in the lock, and he opened the door and pushed her through. He slammed the door, threw his keys—she heard them hit tile, so he must have thrown them toward the kitchen—and unclasped the helmet from under her chin. That got thrown, too. Even his kutte landed on the floor. He was usually very careful with that. Laura unzipped her jacket and dropped it off her shoulders.

They were still kissing; her lips and cheeks were feeling bruised and scraped, but she kind of liked that, too. He was still walking her backward, towards the bedroom. He didn't stop until her legs hit the bed. Then he tore his mouth away. She whined; the sound made her blush, but she didn't want him to stop kissing her.

His chest heaving, he stared down at her with dark, intense eyes. "Do you trust me, love?"

She did—she almost always had, from the first. That was why Christmas had hurt so much. She nodded. "Yes."

"I want to fuck you. Will you let me?"

She was confused. Wasn't that the point of being here? "Well, yeah. That's why—"

He cut her off. "No, love. Not what I mean. I want to _take_ you. Hard."

Now Laura was really confused—because that scared her. A lot. But it also excited her, so much so that she actually felt her underwear soak. It wasn't the first time her body reacted like that, like the fear throbbed between her legs, but she didn't understand it. And this was more intense than ever. "Chibs, I don't—I'm—." She didn't know what to say.

"Trust me, Laura. I'll not do anything that isn't good. And I'll stop if you say."

Scared as she was, she didn't know whether to tell him no or not. She was very much in new territory. But it seemed like she always was with him, and he was asking first—and she did trust him. So she nodded.

And his mouth was on hers again, even harder than before. He pulled her ponytail free and went for her jeans, almost tearing them open. Fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, she toed her sneakers off as he pushed her jeans and underwear over her hips and down her legs. When she was naked from the waist down, he yanked her t-shirt over her head and grabbed her waist, throwing her onto the bed. Oh, God. She loved the way he was moving her, being rough without hurting, but she was still nervous. She had no idea where the line was, and she didn't want to be hurt.

She undid her bra while he stripped his clothes off. He headed for his dresser. Oh—she'd almost forgotten!

"Wait—you don't need those."

He paused in the act of opening his top drawer, his hand frozen in space for a beat. Then he turned to her. "What?"

"It was supposed to be one of my Christmas presents for you. I went to the clinic and got birth control. We don't need those anymore."

For an uncomfortable span of seconds, Chibs did nothing. Then a grin spread slowly over his face. "Ah, lass. That's a brilliant present." He came back to the bed. She thought he was going to lie on top of her, and she spread her legs, but instead, he knelt next to her, grabbed her waist, and flipped her. She squealed and tensed. She wasn't sure she liked this, after all. She didn't know what to expect.

Before Chibs, Laura's sexual experiences had been mostly infrequent and mostly…well, she would have said normal, but since Chibs, maybe normal wasn't the right word. Maybe ordinary was more apt. Ordinarily missionary and ordinarily pretty quick. She'd enjoyed it almost every time, and she'd had an orgasm almost every time. But with Chibs, she felt like she knew nothing at all about sex.

Now his mouth was on her shoulder, his teeth nipping gently. She flinched, and he moved to her ear. "Easy, lass. Trust me," he murmured. He pushed up and changed positions, kneeling between her legs, and then he grabbed her waist again and yanked her up, putting her on her knees. _Oh, God, oh, God._ Her heart was going so fast she thought she'd pass out, and she couldn't stop shaking. She didn't know why, exactly. Since Thanksgiving, he'd come from behind several times—Laura really liked it. She knew this. She knew he wouldn't do anything…else. There was no reason to be nervous. Except that as familiar as it should be, everything was different.

He pushed his hand between her legs. Oh, she was so turned on and sensitive that her hips bucked and jumped at his touch. She didn't understand how she could be so scared and so hot at the same time. What was wrong with her?

"You're so wet, love. That's the way. D'you know how long it's been since I've gone without a condom? This could go faster than I'd like. But it'll be so good." She felt him between her legs, hard and big—and hot, so much hotter without the cool of the lubed latex. "Ah, like silk you are. Easy, now. Easy."

He shoved into her so fast, hard, and deep that she screamed—not a squeal, not a whine or a whimper, a scream. She wasn't even embarrassed, because he was wrong. It hurt. And, God, he was moving fast, getting even deeper, his thighs slapping against her, his hands on her hips and his fingers digging into her skin. Every time he slammed into her she screamed again. She had to stop him—it wasn't good, something strange was happening inside her and—

No, it _was_ good. It was the same strange feeling, but now it wasn't pain. Or maybe it was, but she didn't want it to stop. She wasn't screaming anymore; instead she was making odd little grunting noises, like her body was too taut and tense to get a whole scream out, and she realized that she'd started moving, too, slamming back when he slammed forward, making him even deeper, the impact even harder.

He was grunting like some kind of beast, with every thrust, but he managed to grit out, "Christ, love—sweet Christ!" Then his hand left her hip and was in her hair, and he was yanking her by the hair up and against his chest. The new position slowed his pace and lessened his depth, and she discovered disappointment at that, when a few minutes ago she would have felt relief. She tried to bend forward again, but he held her fast, one hand moving to her breast, the other sliding down her belly to push between her legs. Still thrusting steadily into her, he bit down on her shoulder. At the same time, he pinched her nipple—hard—and pulled it. When she gasped and arched at that dazzlingly intense sensation, he slapped her clit. _Slapped_ her. And then he did it again.

She came so hard she couldn't scream. With her head tipped back on his shoulder, she opened her mouth and felt the force of the scream in her throat, but nothing came out. She didn't know how she could stand pleasure this extreme and stay sane—or conscious. As she bowed back on him, her body so rigid a little part of her brain—the tiny sliver that hadn't gone completely over to the experience she was having—was afraid she was stroking out, he pulled on her nipple rhythmically, like a pulse, in time with the rocking of his hips, and vigorously rubbed her clit. He stayed on her, never stilling his thrusts, until she was suddenly more sensitive than she truly could stand, and she grabbed his hands in hers and pulled them away.

With that, he pushed her forward, back to her hands and knees, and picked up his pace again, getting so deep, grabbing her hips and yanking her back as he shoved forward, until she was making those weird stilted grunts again, and she came a second time, knotting the comforter in her fists, her head full of light and her body full of fire.

This time, he came right after her, his thrusts slowing but still brutal, shouting, "Laura! Love! Fuck! Fuck!"

Now Laura knew what people meant when they said they were spent. She couldn't hold herself up any longer. She oozed to the bed, panting, dizzy, confused, and extremely freaked out. If she'd had any energy, she might be causing Chibs some concern right about now. But she didn't. As she closed her eyes, she felt the weight of his body easing onto her. That was nice. He was still inside her. That was nice, too. It calmed her head.

"Alright, love?" His mouth was on her ear, his breath heavy, his beard tickling her lobe. "D'you like that?"

Almost dozing, she nodded, but then she opened her eyes and tried to roll over underneath him. He lifted off and out of her—_ooh, sore!—_so she could, and then rested back onto her, propped on his elbow, smiling down at her, his face bathed in sweat.

"I liked it, but it scared me. I don't think I want that often."

His brow furrowed, and he brushed wet strands of hair from her eyes. "Scared? I'm sorry, lass. But why?"

She felt humiliatingly naïve to say it, but she got it out anyway, trying not to blush. Was it possible to try not to blush? "It was hard, and it hurt, but I didn't want it to stop. And I came so hard. I've never come like that before. That's weird, right? That makes me weird?"

His smile felt condescending to her, but she decided not to take offense—she had, after all, just asked him an embarrassing question. "What do you think rough sex is, love? It's pleasure in pain—or almost pain. Liking it makes you very normal." She felt him beginning to harden against her leg. Wow. Really?

"Are you sore?," he asked.

"Yeah. I don't think I can do it again, if that's what you're thinking."

With a wicked grin, he kissed her, a thorough smack of his lips on hers. "Nah, I was thinking I'd kiss it and make it better." He pushed himself down her body, and she felt his mouth soft between her legs. She couldn't possibly come again—everything down there felt swollen and too sensitive to deal with any more stimulation. But his touch was feather-light, soothing her with his lips and gentle tongue. She loved the feeling of his beard against her most sensitive skin. She closed her eyes and relaxed into it.

She had no idea how long he kissed and caressed and laved her, always soft and tender. It felt so good. So wonderful. She floated on a cloud of pleasure, completely at her ease, no longer remotely freaked out. Just happy. Everything was better. They were good. What he was doing was loving and sweet, and it felt amazing. So good. So unbelievably good. So—

"Chibs!"

"Aye, lass. I know. Let go." She was coming. She hadn't even felt it until it was on her. Her hips were bucking against his touch before she knew what was happening. She grabbed his head, and then, and only then, did he increase his pressure on her. She cried out—she'd never made the kind of noise she was making today, and she felt weird about that, or she would in a few minutes—and sat up, nearly instantly needing him to back off. He did, his face wet with her, grinning like he'd just won the lotto.

"You, me fair lass, are a delight."

Sitting up, he moved them both so that he was resting with his head on the pillows, and she was resting with her head on his chest. They lay like that, quietly, for a long time, the afternoon sun in the window turning a deeper and deeper gold. Laura thought Chibs was sleeping; his breathing was deep and regular. She laid her hand on his belly.

"Are we good, then, love?" His voice rumbled deeply against her ear.

"Yeah. We're good. I don't know what to think about where we're going, but there's only so far out I know how to think." She turned her head up to look at him. "I love you. And I do trust you. I know, whatever happens, you'll…you'll try to be good to us. You'll try not to hurt us."

"Aye, love. I'll not hurt you." Laura knew he couldn't really know that. It was the kind of promise a person could mean, but not keep. She didn't challenge him. Instead, she smiled and kissed him. He ran his thumb over her cheekbone. "What about Eileen?"

"I talked to her. I don't know if I told her the right thing. I told her she didn't have the kind of family that came with a daddy, but that was okay, because she had a Chibs, and that was just as good." She was nervous—not only about whether it was the right thing to tell Leenie, but about how Chibs would feel about what she'd said.

So she was heartened to see him smile at her. "And what did the wee pretty say about that?"

Laura laughed. "She said 'Okay, Mommy. I like having a Chibs,' and went back to her cereal. She's a lot smarter and saner than I am, I think."

"I don't know about that. I think she got her head from the same place she got her looks. Her stellar mum." He lifted his head, and she met him for a kiss. When he rolled and put her under him, though, she held him off. He was hard again. Or still.

"You're extra horny today, aren't you?," she laughed.

He wiggled his brows at her. "For you? Not extra, no."

That pleased her inordinately. "It's late, though. I have to get Leenie in"—she looked at the old-fashioned alarm clock next to his bed—"oh, wow. 40 minutes. So you need to take me back to my car."

He sat up, lifting her with him. "Alright. But come back here, yeah? I'll take you both out, we'll get dinner, and come back to watch princess movies and play Candyland."

"You sure your outlaw rep can take a hit like that?"

"I've lots of rep banked, love. It can take some hits."

"Good thing, too. But you also hate driving my car." He really did, but he drove it anyway, when they went out in town. She was pretty sure he'd rather run alongside than actually ride in the passenger seat while she drove. She wasn't a bad driver, but she was a woman, and he didn't "ride bitch," as he said.

"Aye. It's shite, and you need something better."

"You know how I feel about that, though—which reminds me. We have to talk about the laptop." He'd offered to buy her a car, but she'd emphatically refused. He was always trying to buy her things. She'd needed his help at first, and she was immeasurably grateful, but he was turning into a fixer, even of problems she didn't really have.

He kissed her. "You're right, but as you've so wisely pointed out, we've got to go. So you'll have to come back here tonight and yell at me."

"Okay, but I'm seriously going to."

"Aye, of course. And I'll convince you you're wrong. It'll be fun."

-oOo-

After _Brave_, two rounds of Candyland, and three bedtime stories, Leenie was asleep on Chibs' couch. Not for the first time, Laura wondered how long it would be okay for Leenie to spend half her nights sleeping on a couch. But she loved being with Chibs, and thus far she seemed perfectly comfortable with the arrangement. Laura bent down and kissed her forehead. When she turned around, Chibs was leaning against the corner of the wall leading into the hallway. Laura walked up to him, and he put his hand on her hip.

"Alright, that _was_ a big hit to me rep." He bent down and kissed her neck. She felt his tongue teasing her skin, and it made her breath catch. "I might have to do something _very_ bad to break even."

That scared her a little, but she liked it. That scared her a little more. But she pushed him back.

"Not gonna distract me, pal. We need to talk. Let's go." She took his hand and led him back to his bedroom.

When they were alone behind the closed door, she said, "I love the book and the bracelet. Really, really love them. They're amazing, and I thank you. But I won't take the laptop. I can't. It's too much. It's you fixing things for me, and that's not what a gift should be. That's a donation."

He furrowed his brow at that, but then his expression eased, and he pulled her close. "But I _want_ to give it to you. It made me happy to buy it for you. You need a computer, Laura. You said you wrote on the one you had. Now you can write on this. And you know it's not a hardship for me."

God, he was sweet. Yes, she knew it wasn't a hardship, but that almost made it worse. Laura didn't know why, she hadn't figured it out all the way yet, but even now that they were together like this, maybe especially now, it made her feel uneasy to have him spend much money on her. "I haven't lost the ability to write, Chibs. You gave me that beautiful journal, and I write in that all the time. When I need to be online, I can use my phone, or I can go to the library. I don't _need _ a computer. No." She didn't write anything earthshattering, anyway. She wrote to make sense of her life. Or at least to try. Just musings, every now and then a story, and the very rare, and poor, attempt at poetry. Chibs had never asked to read any of it. He seemed to know without being told that it was private.

"Laura—"

"No. Just no. I appreciate that you're trying to take care of me, I do. It's so sweet, and I love you. But no. The help you gave me when I needed it—it meant so much. It still does. But I don't need this, and it's too much to be a gift."

He gave her a sly look, and it set her on alert. "Alright, then._ I_ need it."

"What?"

"_I _need a laptop. You can use it if you want. You know, when you're here."

"Chibs…" He gazed steadily at her, eyebrows raised in challenge, daring her to argue with that position. And she couldn't.

"I won't use it." She crossed her arms.

His grin was obnoxiously smug. "Well, lass, that's up to you, isn't it?"

She wasn't sure whether he'd won; she thought he had. She made a frustrated sound like a growl or something and swatted at his shoulder, which made him laugh. Then his eyes grew hot, and he pulled her close again.

"There's yet the matter of the last gift."

She knew what he meant—the box that had been on his bed last night. The one that was on his dresser now. Now it was her turn to be smug. Having mostly lost the laptop debate, she got a perverse thrill from knowing that he'd have to take that one back. "I know what that is. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but sexy lingerie doesn't fit me. I'll split out the seams. Believe me, I've tried."

Still wearing that blasted cat-digesting-canary look, he walked over, got the box, and brought it to her. "Ah, love. That was before you met your Scot. I've got connections. The Sons are partners in some enterprises for which…specialty lingerie is important."

Laura held the box, but she didn't yet open it. "I don't even know what that means."

"We're partners in a porn studio and an escort service, love. I know some extremely busty women. _Extremely_ busty. Considerably larger than you."

"Well, bully for you." All of a sudden, she was disconcertingly pissed off.

"Ah, is me lovely lass jealous? You needn't be. Your tits are the most beautiful I've ever had me hands on. Open the box, love."

Was she jealous? It felt weird, but yeah, she thought she was. She didn't like the idea of him looking at other women's big boobs. And a porn studio? He was probably seeing a lot more than boobs, and right up close. She decided not to think about that. She opened the box, folded back the tissue, and—oh. Oh, it was so pretty. She put her hand in and lifted it out a little. Lace, but silky, not stiff and scratchy, and the pattern was intricate. It felt almost like it was handmade. And the color! Midnight blue—no, not quite that dark. Cobalt. Or sapphire. God, it was pretty.

"The color of your eyes, love. Your beautiful eyes."

Chibs' voice was low, husky and sweet. Laura looked up at him; he was looking at her, not the lingerie, and he smiled when she met his eyes. She pulled it out of the box. Oh, there were several pieces—a bra, a thong, a garter belt, sheer, seamed silk stockings, and a little lace skirt. Wow. It _was_ like a porn costume. But it was just gorgeous. She'd never had anything remotely like it. The straps on the bra were slender and lacy. She couldn't believe it could possibly fit. She held the bra up, though, and the cups looked about right. She saw a tag and checked. That was—how did he know?

She looked at him again, about to ask. But he knew her question. "I checked, lass. I sneaked a peek at one of your bras."

"It's gorgeous. My God, Chibs."

He took the lingerie out of her hands, set it back in the box, and laid it on the bed. Then he pulled her close. "I know I was rough on you this afternoon, so tonight we'll just sleep. But I'd love to see you in all that sometime. Maybe with those pretty high heels you wore on Thanksgiving. Could you see your way to doing that for me?"

"Definitely. And you're right that I'm sore. But you're wrong about something." She opened his belt and undid the buttons on his jeans. "We don't have to just sleep tonight." She went to her knees.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 15:**

"Chibs."

"Chibs."

"Chibs."

Chibs opened his eyes to see Eileen's little face a couple of inches from his. The room was dark. Blinking himself awake, he peered around her to see the faintly green hands of the bedside clock. Just after 3am. "Hello, pretty. Lonely?"

"Yes and there are big shadows and voices."

That got his attention. "Outside?"

She nodded. "In the window."

He sat up. "In you go, lass." She crawled onto the bed and over him to the middle, between him and Laura, who woke and turned over as Eileen was settling on the pillows.

Laura pulled her girl into her arms. It wasn't unusual for Eileen to join them in bed; she'd gotten used to sleeping with her mum over the past several months, and sometimes she got lonely on her own. That had been a major adjustment for him, but he'd grown to like it. When Laura noticed Chibs sitting up, she lifted her head. "Everything okay?"

"Aye. She said she heard voices. Just going to check." He turned back the covers and stood. Quickly yanking on his jeans, he opened the nightstand drawer and took out his Beretta.

"Chibs!" Laura's whisper was harsh, and he turned back. Her eyes were wide and her expression sharp.

"It's alright, love. Stay put."

He went out to the living room, cocking his gun. He saw Eileen's shadows—two men, standing just on the other side of the window, the parking lot lights striking their silhouettes against the closed blinds. They weren't talking. Chibs went flat against the wall and eased the blinds away to get a better look.

Kids. A couple of skater boys loitering in front of his flat, smoking. Chibs watched for a few minutes, until they started talking again, and he could hear that they were only havering on, their conversation completely inane. Fuck, it was barely English. With a deep breath to back his body down from its state of high alert, Chibs decocked his gun and stuck it in the back of his waistband. Then he grabbed his kutte, pulled it on over his wife-beater, and opened his door.

"Alright, lads. Find somewhere else to measure your dicks."

He'd surprised them. One, a tall, shockingly thin boy with grievously bad skin, backed away. But the other, shorter but also very thin, wearing a striped beanie, took a step toward Chibs, his face defiant. "Ain't it past your bedtime, old man?"

Chibs grinned. Never a bad time to teach a young pup a lesson. He grabbed the kid by his hoodie and slammed him to the wall next to his door. The kid's look immediately shifted from defiance to alarm. Getting right in his face, Chibs snarled, "You don't want to measure dicks with _me_, lad. You want to get the fuck away from this door, is what you want to do."

He released the kid, who pulled sulkily on his hoodie, gave Chibs a belligerent look, snarled, "Fuck you, man," and ran off with his spotty sidekick.

Chuckling, Chibs went back into his flat. When he got back to the bedroom, Eileen was asleep, clutching her bunny and curled up against her mum. Laura was sitting up, waiting for him.

"No worries, love. Just a couple of kids." He put the Beretta away, pulled off his jeans and got back in bed. Laura was still staring at him. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "Alright?"

She whispered, but she still managed to yell. "_You keep a loaded gun next to the bed_?"

The question—and the anger—surprised him. He whispered, too, but calmly. "Aye. Of course."

She goggled at him. "Chibs! Leenie is here. A five year old. You can't have a loaded gun where she can get to it. That's crazy! That's so dangerous I'm sick at the thought of it!" She wasn't whispering any longer, and Eileen stirred in her sleep. Laura looked down and watched her settle before she continued. "We have to go. I can't have her here with…that." She turned and got out of bed.

Chibs was having trouble keeping up with the twists and turns of this night. He leapt out of bed, went to her side, and grabbed her arm. "No. We need to talk. Other room." Without giving her a chance to refuse, he led her out of the room. She held back at first, then let him lead her. He sat her on the couch, then sat next to her.

"Chibs, there's no way. I can't have Leenie in a house with a loaded gun. That's crazy!"

He worked hard to stay calm, but he had to make her understand. "She's been here with loaded guns all this time, love. She doesn't know about them, and there's no reason she needs to. I can't be without them. Do you understand?"

Raking her hands through her hair, Laura stared at her knees, her eyes wide. "God, I can't believe you don't get this. What if she gets curious? She's five." She turned to him. "What if she wanders into the bedroom, opens the drawer, just because she's bored and it's a thing to do, and finds it—or whatever else you have stashed around. If she shoots herself—or you, or me—because she just came across a loaded gun, that's okay with you?"

"Of course not! But, Laura, you know what I am, what I do. This is the life. Guns are a part of it. I cannot go without a gun or have one that is of no use to me. It's how I _protect_ you and Eileen." Why the fuck couldn't she see that? He tried to think of another way to explain it, but he had none. He needed his guns. No way around it.

"Well, I can't have my daughter somewhere she could _die_ because a loaded gun is in her reach. Chibs, I won't!" Her expression was familiar to him, defiant and fierce. When she felt she was standing up for her girl, she was stubborn as hell. He closed his eyes and fought harder for calm.

But he was losing the battle, losing his cool. He repeated his most obvious point. "She's been here with them all this time!"

"Because I didn't know! And that doesn't make it any better!" Now he could see _her_ fight for calm, taking a deep breath. She shifted on the couch and faced him, her expression minutely softened. "Now I know. Now I have to do something about it."

His brain churned, trying to puzzle out a solution for them. This couldn't be the thing that took his lasses away. It couldn't be. An idea occurred to him. Not a good one, one that could cause trouble if someone got into his flat, but the odds of that were unlikely enough that Chibs thought the balance worked in their favor. "I'll pull the clip. The clip stays loaded, but I'll pull it, put in it the dresser."

She stared at him. He could see her brain churning, too, her blue eyes flashing. Finally, she nodded brusquely, once. "And the gun on the top shelf of your closet. And the same thing with any other gun you've got stashed in here."

It could take him almost a full minute to get a useful weapon in his hands that way. A lot could happen in a single minute. "Laura—"

She cut him off, putting her hand up between them. "That's the deal. Look. It's still not safe. Nothing's locked up. If she really wants to, she could still get hold of it. But that's as close as I'm coming to a compromise."

"You don't understand—"

She cut him off again. He was almost out of patience. "You're right. I don't. This is nothing I ever thought I'd have to deal with. I get it if you need to keep a loaded gun to be safe. But then I have to get my daughter out of here."

"Christ! This is how our kids are raised. We keep our kids safe, even around our guns. _Because_ of the guns. We teach them to respect them."

"I don't care if you hang loaded Uzis over their cribs like mobiles. Not Leenie. No."

Chibs wondered if Laura realized they were having a much bigger and more complicated argument. This could well dwarf the fight they'd had a few weeks ago, just after Christmas. It was too late—too late for him, at least—to be having it. He was in. He had no intention of losing what he'd found with Laura and Eileen. But she needed to get her pretty blonde head around the fact that he was a Son, and she was his. His life was her life, and his life wasn't going to make way for her.

"Alright. Alright. Christ." He took her hands in his, running his thumb over the gold bracelet he'd given her. Once she'd accepted it, she'd never taken it off. "I'll put the guns up. I'll keep the loaded clips apart. But I told you to think about me life and what it meant. I told you to think about how you could find your way in. You said you could. You said you would. You haven't done that. You're asking me for a big concession, love. I need one from you. I need to know you're in. I need to know you understand what that means."

"I can't! I don't understand! All I know is guns and jail and, apparently, money. You keep saying _this is the life_, but what part of that is a life? The life I know, the one I see every day, is you working at a garage and making eggs and sausage for Leenie and me and…and…being a good guy! Being normal! I can't make that make sense with the other stuff." She yanked her hands from his and got up from the couch. She stood there for a beat or two, then, without looking back at him, said, "I'm so confused. I have to do the right thing for Leenie, and I can't see what it is."

An idea overtook Chibs. Laura needed stability. She needed something steady under her feet. There was a limit to what he could give her, but there was something. He gave the idea a quick test run through his head, then wrapped his hand around Laura's bare leg. "_I _can, love. I know." He pulled her back down to the couch. She looked at him, waiting.

"The life is all of those things. When it's…busy, I'm gone a lot. I'm armed most of the time. I could get arrested. I could even do time. Sometimes, when things are very bad, we have to call the families together to keep them safe. Doesn't happen often. Years go by when things are, like you say, normal. When it's calm, as it's mostly been for a while now, I'm just a mechanic. I do me shifts and drink with me brothers and come home. We do charity runs and the like. That's why family is important. Family evens out the crazy times. You're never alone. You'll not be alone again. All those big, rough men who scared you on Thanksgiving—"

"They didn't scare me."

He grinned. "Alright. All those big, rough men you met, every one of them would protect you and Eileen like their own because you're mine. Every one of them would die for you. If you're in me life, then you have that protection."

"So what's that mean? You said you knew the right thing. What do you think that is?"

"We need to get Eileen a better sleeping arrangement, yeah? She's on this couch, or between us, or in the daybed with you. You want her to have a bed of her own, yeah?"

"Yeah…" She drew the word out, suspiciously.

"Let's get a place. Two bedrooms. Safer." As he'd spoken, the idea had been hatching, details emerging. He liked it. It was the right thing.

She was clearly incredulous. "How do you get from fighting about keeping Leenie safe from your guns in the house to moving her into your house full-time? How does that fix anything? How is that right thing?"

"_Our_ house. It makes her—and us—safer, so having to assemble me gun isn't a worry. This place is small, and the parking is right outside the door. As things are, she's right near that door unless she's in bed with us. And if we live together, it makes it clear to the Sons that you're in, with me."

"Does it make me your old lady, or whatever?"

Christ, he wished it could be that simple. "That's complicated, lass. You know that."

"Because you're married."

"Aye."

She looked down at her lap. "And that's not going to change."

He shook his head. He had no other answer.

"You know it doesn't make sense to me how what we're doing—and what you're asking me to do now—is okay but divorce isn't."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Still looking at her lap, her voice soft, she said, "You know it makes me your mistress." She laughed. "God, I already am."

He hated that word. It sounded so sordid. "No, lass. You're me woman. The only one."

At that, she finally looked up at him. "That's not true. There's another. No—_I'm_ the other."

"Laura…" There was no end to this argument. He had no other explanation. She was right. And she was wrong. He was married. But he was free. In all the important ways, the ways that really mattered, he was free. Fiona was in Ireland. She had no wish to be with him in body or spirit. She had told him, when last they spoke, that she was not his old lady. Kerrianne didn't seem to see it that way, but that would work itself out in time. Assuming she ever spoke to him again.

"You don't need to say anything. I knew it when we started. I thought it didn't matter. I'm still not sure how much it does." She sighed. Chibs didn't like the sound of it, like she was simply resigned to her fate—a life with him. "But you're right. Leenie needs a bed and a space of her own. And it would break her heart to lose you. Mine, too. It's too late. I took us down this road, and now we're on it. So…okay."

He wasn't sure what to think. She'd just agreed to move in with him. But she looked so bloody sad about it. Nothing between them ever seemed to go the way it should. He pulled her into his arms, and she came passively.

"I love you, Laura. You're me family, you and Eileen."

She said nothing. After a few minutes, he led her back to bed, and she curled around her daughter. With misgivings, he took his Beretta out of the drawer, pulled the clip, and put the parts away as he'd told her he would. Then he slid into bed and watched this lasses sleep.

-oOo-

Chibs sat at Jax's right hand at the table. He'd been SAA for years now. It was a position he seemed suited for, as Bobby was suited for Vice President. Chibs thought the three of them made a good team. They'd certainly presided over the most lucrative years of the club—and the calmest, lately.

But as he listened to Jax's news, he wondered if that time of peace might be coming to an end. The timing would be shite. Not that there was ever good timing for chaos, but right now, as he was trying to ease Laura into the life, as he'd finally convinced her that his desire to buy a house rather than lease a larger flat was a good thing, a secure thing, right now would be a particularly bad time for their world to go tits up. As it was, her enthusiasm for their plans was not what he would like.

He hoped this new problem was the small potatoes it should be. The new bunch of yahoo kids they were, for lack of a real name, calling the Meth Kids were stirring up shite again. Those lads had short memories.

Jax leaned forward. "We gotta find their new kitchen. And I'm sick of wasting time with this shit, so we gotta be more convincing about what a bad fucking idea slinging crystal in Charming is. Bobby, Chibs, Hap—I want you to ride with me down to San Gabriel. They're having the same kind of trouble. I want to know if these kids are stupid or if they're protected. Jock seems to think it's a little of both. They've been dealing with it longer, and he invited us to their table to confer. We leave in the morning."

Chibs nodded. San Gabriel was about 400 miles south. Unless they had a reason they had to hurry straight back, they'd likely be gone at least three days. Not a bad run, and Chibs already felt the thrill of the road roll up his spine. But it would be the first run since he and Laura had come together. He'd have to figure out how to talk to her about it. He needed to figure out a better way to bring her more fully into the club.

After Jax gaveled the meeting to a close, Chibs went to Hap. "Got a minute?"

Hap put his hand on Chibs' shoulder. "Sure, brother. Drink with me." They went to the bar, and Gordo poured them both whiskey—Jack for Hap and Jameson for Chibs. Hap took a long drink. "S'up?"

"Thinking to call Viv and ask her to visit with Laura while we're away. I think she needs somebody smarter than me to tell her how things are. That alright?"

Hap set his drink down and turned to Chibs. "What are you doin', brother?"

"What do you mean?"

"With this girl, this Laura. Bringing her in? How far? As what?"

Something about the way Hap said her name dug at Chibs. Before he answered, he took a beat. He drank his whiskey. He took a breath. "How is that your business?"

Hap shrugged. "Wouldn't say it was. But you want my old lady to show her the ropes, and I gotta ask—is this a girl who should be that close? Look at what happened with Tig. The wrong woman can fuck shit up. Seems like your situation makes things even rougher. So what are you doin' with her?"

He didn't have the energy to get pissed at Hap for speaking the truth. He understood the concern, in fact. He didn't share it—Laura was nothing like Desi and would never cause that kind of trouble—but he understood why Sons would be leery of a new woman getting close. "What I can. All I can. Fiona might be me wife, but she's not me old lady, not anymore. She doesn't want it; nor do I."

He'd put some real thought into this recently. Why _couldn't_ Laura be his old lady? He didn't need to marry her to make that true. He needed to mark her. And Fiona did not bear his mark; they'd not been together in all the years he'd been a Son. Considering it now, in the light of Hap's challenge, he knew the right thing to do.

He looked Hap in the eye. "You don't want me to call Viv, that's fine."

"Call her. That's up to Vivian, not me. And I'll trust you to know what you're doin'." He finished his drink. "See you in the A.M., brother." With that, he swung off the stool and headed to the lot. Home to his family.

Chibs finished his whiskey and did the same.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay in posting. RL is kicking my ass.

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 16:**

Laura was nervous. Chibs had left the day before, to be away for several days on a "run," which seemed to mean a ride, doing something with the Sons he didn't explain. A few hours after he'd left, she'd gotten a call from Viv, Happy's old lady, asking if she was free at all while the "boys" were gone. Laura had told her she had the next day—today—off, so now she and Leenie were waiting to get picked up for a day at the Sacramento Zoo with Viv and Hope.

It was good. It was. Two months since Thanksgiving, and Laura was no more comfortable or familiar with anyone in the club. Most of that was because she didn't have time. She worked, and she was with Leenie and Chibs, and that filled her days. But the other part of it was she wasn't exactly jumping up and down at the idea of the club. Thanksgiving had left some residual badness for her, even though the women, especially Viv and Frank, and Tara, had been nice to her. She didn't feel like she was someone who had anything to offer women like that. Especially not after Chibs had told her more about them. That information had had the opposite effect that he probably wanted it to. It had definitely not made it easier for her.

Laura wasn't insecure about herself, not generally. She knew she had her challenges—young, with a kid, only a high school diploma, broke. She hadn't yet lit the world on fire. But she was also proud of the way she took care of her daughter. Well, except for the living in her car part. But under the circumstances, she thought she'd been doing okay, overall.

Appalled by her sinful state, her parents had thrown her out about fifteen minutes after she'd told them she was pregnant—on the day of her high school graduation. She probably could have picked a better time to tell them than her graduation party, but her father had been going on and on to all the guests about her grades and her college plans, and taking credit for her success by "raising her with a good, firm Christian hand," and, sitting there listening to him, freaking out about how that good, firm Christian hand would react to her condition, she'd kind of snapped. She'd still been months away from her eighteenth birthday. Since then, she'd made her way almost entirely on her own—through a pregnancy and delivery and being a mom. So she thought herself fairly strong and capable.

But these women made her feel like a dope. The way they looked, the way they acted, what they did. A doctor. A musician. An artist, who also owned her own business and was only a few years older than she was. All of them beautiful and confident in ways that Laura just…wasn't.

What was Laura? Nothing like that. Just Laura, working the kind of job for people without better prospects.

But she had her Leenie, and she had Chibs, and that was plenty. Except that Chibs was a Son, and he needed her to be part of that family, too. Not a want—a need. She'd told him she would find her way in, but she hadn't really tried. Now, though, if they were moving in together, she supposed she couldn't put it off any longer. Apparently Chibs thought so, too. Laura would bet a day's wages that Viv hadn't called out of the blue. She was sure this was Chibs doing a kind of matchmaking. Well, he'd said he'd help her.

So, lunch and the zoo with Viv and Hope. Okay. It would be good. Fun, even. It would.

-oOo-

Leenie was excited, at any rate. She'd picked out a t-shirt with a leopard print in honor of the destination, and she'd carefully packed her pack with books she thought Hope would like—including _The Velveteen Rabbit_. Laura had done Leenie's hair in a single ponytail and then braided the tail into six thin braids. She'd done her hair the same way; Leenie always loved that. And then they'd waited.

Laura had been listening for a honk, so she was surprised at a knock on their door. When she answered, Viv was there, holding Hope. Viv wore low-rise jeans and low-heeled black boots, a green silk tee with a wild kind of paisley pattern, and a black leather jacket. Hope was dressed in little jeans with a ruffle, little purple Converses, and a purple hoodie sweater. They were both all wild black curls. Laura felt awkward in her jeans, sweater, and sneakers. Well, at least Leenie looked cute.

Why did she care? That was so annoying. But she did.

Viv smiled. She had a smile that looked like she was in on a joke with you. It was nice. It put Laura at her ease a little. "Hey, baby. You ladies ready to go?"

Laura smiled back. "Hi—we are. I just need to grab jackets. Come in for a sec while I get them." She was not embarrassed about their little apartment. She loved it, even if it wasn't much at all.

Viv stepped in, and Laura shut the door. Leaving Viv and Hope standing just inside, she went to the closet. Her back to the room, she heard Viv's voice.

"This is a cute place. Really sweet. Oh, and I love the artwork. Who did this beautiful drawing of tulips?"

Laura smiled. "I made that," her daughter piped up. "Mommy asked me to make pretty pictures to make our house pretty."

"Well, baby, you definitely did that. These are very, very pretty. I like this one, too. I can't remember what that kind of animal is called, though."

"That's a giraffe, silly. You can tell because he has a LONG neck!"

"Ah. Of course. That _was_ silly of me. Thank you for reminding me."

"That's okay he's a special kind because giraffes have spots and his spots are invib—invib—invibisle. So maybe you didn't know about that kind."

Laura brought Leenie's jacket to her and pulled on her own, feeling quite a bit better about the day ahead of them.

-oOo-

It was a good day. Sacramento was just under an hour away, and Leenie "read" books to Hope on the drive. First, though, she'd recognized Viv's SUV as the one they'd taken to the beach, and had regaled Viv with a very detailed story about that day, her wonderful birthday adventure. Chibs had featured prominently in the story. Laura sat in the passenger seat and listened, and watched Viv listen. Viv asked Leenie the kinds of questions that indicated she was really paying attention.

When Laura thought the story was getting a bit lengthy, she suggested a book. Leenie in chatterbox mode—which was usually the same mode as awake mode—could be a lot to take. Hope, on the other hand, was mostly quiet and watchful during the ride. She had a huge unicorn, maybe twice her size, that she held, her arm wrapped around its neck. Most of it was on the seat next to her. Leenie had to lean over it to show the pictures in the book. It was really ugly, actually. Not that Mr. Snuffles was pretty. But the unicorn looked like it had started out scary-looking and gone quite a ways downhill since.

They had a fast-food lunch, for which Laura insisted on paying (though in truth that was a little scary, budget-wise), and then hit the zoo, Hope in a stroller, Leenie walking alongside. She seemed to really like the baby, and, apparently, vice versa. By the time they got to the zoo, Hope was calling her "Eilee" and calling her over every time something caught her eye. For Leenie's part, she directed her running chatter at Hope, who was one of her more rapt audiences. They were adorable, actually.

Viv and Laura chatted about the kids and the zoo and the people around them. They didn't really talk about the Sons. Laura kind of wanted to, but she didn't know how to start. Toward the end of their tour of the zoo, they came upon a playground, and Viv and Laura sat on a bench while Leenie and Hope played.

A minute or so after they sat, Viv turned to her. "I'll be straight with you, baby. I don't like subterfuge. Chibs asked me to get together with you. He wants somebody to help you figure out the club. He means well—if he didn't I'd have said no."

Laura laughed. "I figured it was that. I'm not mad. I know why. And today's been nice. I'm not sure what you're supposed to tell me, though. I've been trying to think of things to ask, but I…" She shrugged.

"Well, first, I want to say, I'm sorry about Christmas. I should have thought to call you. Somebody should have. But nobody's used to Chibs having anybody we should call."

Laura nodded. "That was scary. Does stuff like that happen a lot?"

"Nah. I mean, these guys are pretty quick with their fists—on each other, too—so I've seen the inside of the Sheriff's office more than I'd like, but not that often—and it's really rare for somebody to get charged. They're careful."

"Can I ask a kind of personal question? You can tell me to shut up."

Viv's smile was wide. "You want to know about me and Hap?" Laura nodded, feeling sheepish. "I know he doesn't look like it, but he's a very good man at heart. He's the most loyal person you'll ever meet, and when he loves someone, he does it with everything he's got. It's something special to be loved by someone who doesn't love easily. And he's hot as hell."

Laura thought that was decidedly a matter of taste, but she nodded. "Is it rude to ask what his real name is?"

"His mama named him Happy."

Laura was shocked. "Really?—I mean, oh, sorry." _That_ was rude.

"S'okay, baby. One of my first thoughts when I met him was that his name is the very definition of irony. That's still kinda true. Even when he's happy, he's usually a quiet, serious guy. But his mom—I didn't meet her, she died before I knew him, but he loved her a lot, and she named her kids what she wanted them to know in their lives. His sister's name was Joy. Kinda sweet, really."

"Was? Is his sister dead, too?" That was a nosy question. Laura blushed.

"Yeah. That's a story for him to tell, not me. But yeah." Viv looked out over the playground and was quiet. Laura looked in the same direction and watched Leenie and Hope playing with a big dump truck in the sand.

"That's going to be a mess in your nice car."

She didn't think Viv even heard her, though, because she said, "Laura, I can't tell you how to love a Son. I can't tell you how to be part of this freak show we have as a family. There are rules I can tell you, customs, but really being a part of it—you're gonna have to figure that out, baby. We all do it differently, the old ladies. You figure that part out. If you want it, you figure it out. Here's what I'll tell you. It's advice I got, and it's good. You love the man. You accept his life. You don't love it. You'll never love it. It's violent. Bad things happen. Really fuckin' awful things happen. Sons are the way they are—drunk, violent, horny, so macho you could puke—because they live right on the edge. They're on the wrong side of the law most days. They get shot at. First time I saw Hap with a bruise from a bullet that hit a bulletproof vest he was wearing, I puked. I've seen it twice more since then."

Laura felt lightheaded. She must have paled, because Viv put her hand on hers.

"You deal, because you love the man, and his life is your life. Most of the time it's good. Really, really good. It's happy. And you're surrounded by people who love you—really love you—and will drop everything to help you. Who will line up and die for you. There's nothing like it. But when it's bad, it as bad as you can imagine. Hap and I have been through shit…" She stopped and shook her head, as if she'd intended to explain and then decided against it. "But I would not trade a second of my life with him for an entire quiet, 'normal' life. And trust me, that's sayin' somethin'."

Watching over the girls again, Viv continued, "Chibs wants me to help you understand. This is all you need to understand. Do you love him enough to accept his life? That life does not make room for you at all. You have to make room for it. Period. You have to change the way you see the world. Because the Sons' world is different from the one you know."

"But…is it safe? I have to keep Lee—Eileen safe."

Shaking her head, Viv said, "It's the wrong question, baby."

Seemed like the most important question to Laura. "I don't understand. How?"

Viv didn't answer. Instead she shifted on the bench and looked intently at her. "Now I got a personal question for you. How'd you come to have a baby and be all on your own so young?"

Immediately uncomfortable, Laura shrugged. "It's not a very interesting story."

"Well, I'm not gonna pry, but I'm interested if you want to tell it."

Oh, why not. It really wasn't an interesting story, and it wouldn't take long to tell. It was embarrassing, though. "Was dating a guy in high school. There was a sweetheart dance around Valentine's Day, and he did it up right, with dinner, and a limo with champagne. First time I ever got drunk. We had sex—my first time for that, too. Never made it to the dance. He took me home after the sex and dumped me while we were sitting in the limo in front of my house. I turned up pregnant. My family is very religious, and when they found out they kicked me out."

She didn't share the part about coming to school on Monday and seeing "Mission Accomplished" scrawled across her locker in Sharpie. No need ever to relive that.

"Lord. I'm sorry, baby. That's terrible. But see? You left for that date feeling safe, didn't you? Nice boy, pretty dress, gettin' picked up in a limo for a fancy date. People are so worried about being safe, but it's always a lie. Don't matter whether your man's an outlaw biker or a bank teller or a high school shithead. Only so safe anybody can be. People get shot standing in line at McDonald's. Or killed in a crash driving their Volvo to work. Or taken advantage of by a douchebag guy. Or their dad's an abusive son of a bitch. If you want an answer to the question, the answer is our kids are safe as they can be. In some ways more safe, in others probably less. Sons live a dangerous life. But because of that they're usually prepared when things get rough. And they do more than most to protect their own."

Viv leaned forward, her expression sharpening to something almost like anger, though Laura felt sure it wasn't directed at her. "I'll tell you what you get with the Sons that you don't in the other world—justice. When somebody manages to hurt us, the Sons make them pay." She sat back and was quiet. They both watched their daughters playing.

Leenie was filling the dump truck so Hope could dump it. Laura could see Leenie trying to get Hope to wait until it was full, but Hope stomped her foot and screamed. Leenie asked her something, holding up one finger and then two, and Hope nodded. Then Leenie poured two buckets of sand into the truck, and Hope dumped that, clapping her hands happily.

"Got a story for you." At the sound of Viv's voice, Laura turned. Viv was looking right at her. "When Hap and I were just starting out, I got attacked by an ex. Guy had no connection to the Sons at all. Not attached to the life in any way. Stabbed me five times. Almost killed me. Wasn't the first time he'd hurt me. Not even the second. Every time was a little worse, and it had nothing to do with the Sons. That was in my 'normal' life." She got quiet again, and Laura could almost see her remembering.

"Hap…made sure he'd never hurt me again. To this day I don't know details, and I don't care. But, baby, it felt good, real good, to know that he wasn't ever gonna touch me again. I got that because Hap is who he is, and I am who I am to him. Because Sons make sure what's owed gets paid. But don't ask if you're safe. Nothing's safe."

Watching the girls again, Laura tried to process all that. She wasn't sure she could. "What's the right question, then?"

Viv shrugged. "Do you love him enough? It's the _only_ question. If the answer is yes, you deal with the rest, whatever it is. If it's no, then break it clean and move on. But make a call, one way or the other. Because you won't change his life. You can't. The life of a Son just…is what it is."

"You know he's married, right?" Laura wasn't really sure why she asked that. Of course Viv knew he was married, and Laura didn't even know what it had to do with what they were talking about. But it felt like had a lot to do with it, even if she couldn't quite see it.

"Yeah, baby, I do. Gotta tell you, I'm not sure that matters much to anybody but you and him—and her, I guess. I've been with Hap for almost six years, and I've never laid eyes on the woman. Nobody ever mentions her. I forget Chibs is married. But if you're worried about how the Sons accept you, that's for him to make right. I can't say much about it without stepping where I shouldn't be. But I'll say, for my part, Chibs is a loyal guy. Loyal like my Hap. He's never been serious with another woman before, even though he and she have been apart so long. It says something about how he feels about you that he wants to bring you in."

Laura realized that Viv hadn't used Chibs' wife's name. She was glad. It made things easier if she didn't think about her by her name. There was probably something wrong with that, but it was true, and Viv seemed to know it, too.

Hope was toddling toward them, pulling at her bottom. Leenie was right behind her. Viv stood up and took a couple of steps. "So it all comes down to that question. Do you love him enough?" She picked up her little girl. "Need a change, baby?" Hope nodded, and Viv collected her diaper bag off the back of the stroller and winked at Laura, then headed off to the restrooms.

Laura sat on the bench with Leenie. Her head was full, but she cleared some room and listened to her girl while they waited.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 17:**

The evening he got back, Chibs pulled into the complex, swung past his flat and headed around to Laura's. He backed in alongside her Taurus—he was going to get her out of that piece of shite as soon as he could—and trotted up the stairs. He had to get back to the clubhouse soon—they had Church and then the Friday night party—but he wanted to come home first. He'd missed his girls.

He'd texted Laura from the road, so she was expecting him, and he knocked and went in. She was writing at her little table, and she stood, smiling, when she saw him. Christ, she was—she looked—she was—Chibs shook his head to clear it. She was not dressed as he had been expecting her to be dressed.

"Hey—you're back! She crossed the room to him, and he took her in his arms. He bent to kiss her, but then he stopped. It was very quiet.

"Where's Eileen?"

"She's having a sleepover with Hope. Viv offered to take her for the night. Leenie and Hope had a good time yesterday." Laura's smile was broad and bright. She was relaxed—more than Chibs thought he'd ever seen her. It was sexy as all hell.

"So you and Viv took the lasses out, yeah? That went well?" Then the full reality of the circumstances suddenly dawned on him, and before Laura could answer, he said, "Eileen is away for the whole night? Until tomorrow?"

Laura nodded. "Yep. _Noon_ tomorrow."

A whole night and morning alone with Laura? "Ah, love. You know I love me pretty lass, but that is fuckin' _fantastic_ news." He bent down and kissed her, sliding his hands to her waist and lifting her off the floor. He headed to her daybed. He was going to fuck her dizzy.

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. "Wait—wait! I got all made up!"

He stopped—indeed she had. She was wearing slim, snug jeans and a sheer black blouse he'd never seen before, mostly unbuttoned, with a tight black tank top underneath, showing far more cleavage than he'd seen her show. A bloody indecent amount of cleavage. Belly, too; the tank stopped a good three inches above her jeans. And she was wearing more makeup than usual. A lot darker around the eyes. "Aye. You did. And why?"

She blushed, the exposed swell of her breasts pinking up as much as her pretty cheeks. "I thought…maybe…I'd go with you tonight? To the clubhouse?"

Christ. Her first time at the clubhouse—on a Friday night? _This_ Friday night? Still holding her, he sat down on her daybed. "Laura, I'm not sure that's a good idea. That's…not a place for a girl like you."

She furrowed her brow, ready to be angry. "What kind of girl am I?"

"Sweet. Innocent." He gave her a squeeze.

She pushed off his lap and stood. "That doesn't sound like the kind of girl for a Son."

"Laura—"

"No. Wait. I know I'm younger than, like, everybody, and I know a lot of what we do is new for me. I get that. And a lot of what I know about the Sons scares me. That's true, too. But I _am_ an adult. You want me to be in your life, right? You want me to find my way in? We're moving in together, so that's true, right? I'm…whatever, your woman, right?"

More than that, he hoped, but this moment did not seem like the right time to bring it up. "Aye. You are."

"Okay. I'm going in. I want to know what the Sons are about. Viv told me some stuff, and a lot of that scared me, too. But she said some stuff that made me think. Me going with you tonight was her idea, by the way. She said Frank was going to be there—I guess that doesn't happen much."

Juice's old lady wasn't much of a fan of clubhouse parties. If she was there, it was for a reason. He wondered if Viv and Frank conferred, to help Laura. If they did, he'd have to thank them—though this wasn't a great week for Laura to be there. "No, she's not there much. Would it make it easier if she was there?"

"I don't know. I guess. I'm not going to lie—I'm nervous. It keeps getting scarier in my head. I have this crazy image of like an orgy, with like writhing drunk people everywhere, and people having rough sex right in the middle of the room." She blushed again and laughed, looking down.

She was still standing in front of him as he sat on her bed. He reached out and put his hands around her thighs. "Love, look at me." She did. "That's what it is. A few hours in, that's exactly what it is. And we have brothers from other charters in town for tonight's meeting. It's gonna be wilder than usual."

Her eyes were wide. He tried to guess what she was thinking, but everything he was coming up with would put a real damper on the delightful night they could have. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Then a ripple of hurt crossed her eyes, and he knew what she wanted to say—to ask.

"No, love. Not since Eileen's birthday. Been only you since then. It'll be only you as long as you'll have me."

She let out a breath and smiled. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she straddled him and sat on his lap, hooking her legs behind him. "Good. Good. I still want to go tonight. I need to understand. I want to know all I can about your life before we move in together."

Her tits were right there, her cleavage bare and beautiful. He plucked at the edge of her sheer blouse. "Not in this. That's asking for trouble."

Her brows drew in again. "But I thought…I wanted to fit in. Dress the part."

"Of what? A Crow Eater? No, love. Be you." He shook the transparent fabric in his fingers. "Is this new?"

"Sorta. I got it at Goodwill after work today. What's a Crow Eater?" She pulled the blouse out of his grasp.

He hated that she wore other women's discarded clothes. That shite would stop when he got her living with him. "The women who hang out at the clubhouse to get fucked. Half the girls you work with. I don't want you there dressed like this. You're not marked, and you're not known to the Sons from away. I don't want anybody thinking you're fair game."

"You're scaring me more."

"Good. You want to go, alright. You stick with me, or Frank, if she's there, and you dress like you." It was still a bad idea, but he loved her for her pluck. He knew he was coming on strong, and he could see resistance creeping into her eyes. He grinned and slid his index finger from her lips, down her chin, her throat, down the center of her chest, into the deep cleft between her tits. "This? Is mine." He leaned into her and pressed his face where his finger had been.

He felt her relax. When she next spoke, her voice was soft. "I thought you'd think it was sexy."

Running his tongue up her chest to her throat, he answered, his lips on her skin. "I think _you're_ sexy, lass." He undid the couple of closed buttons on her blouse and pushed it off her shoulders, sucking on her throat all the while.

She moaned and clutched him closer. This was a much better development. He turned and laid her on the daybed, then shifted to loom over her. When he tried to come down to kiss her, she held him off. "I still got all done up. I won't be presentable when we're done."

"We've got almost two hours. I'll be having you in the shower after I have you here, then you can redo whatever you need to—but you don't need all that crap, love. You are lovely the way God made you." He pushed his hand under her skimpy wee tank top.

-oOo-

Chibs lay on the daybed and let Laura go into the shower alone first. He wanted to come in on her when she was in the middle of her cleaning, when she'd stopped waiting for him to join her. This would be the first time he'd showered with her. He wanted her all wet and warm, and slick from the soap and shampoo she'd just rinsed away.

When he thought he'd waited long enough, he got out of bed and strode the few steps to the bathroom door. She'd closed it, even though it was just the two of them in her little studio. He wasn't sure why, but he loved her tendency to privacy. He found it sexy—as if, when he opened the door on her, he was seeing something he oughtn't. He opened the door now, slowly, knowing when to stop before the top hinge squeaked.

The tub/shower combo had a pebbled-glass sliding door, so his view of her was slightly obscured, but he could see all he needed to. He leaned against the jamb and watched her soap up her body. It made him swell to see her rubbing the suds over herself, to know that she was touching herself in that way. Sweet Christ, it was hot.

When she turned and stood under the spray, her back to the faucet and her head tipped back, rinsing, he couldn't take it any longer, and he opened the shower door and joined her. She lifted her head and smiled at him, her face free of the dark makeup and dewy with shower spray. He himself could do with an actual shower, to wash the road off, but that would wait. Now, he stepped up to her in the narrow space and folded her in his arms.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he kissed her, his mouth open on hers, his tongue plunging between her lips. When he felt her tongue fighting with his, giving him back everything he gave her, he skimmed his hands over her little arse and lifted her, groaning. She hooked her legs around his hips, fitting the wet heat of her delicious, snug pussy against his cock. Christ, she felt good. Without really thinking about it, he gave her arse a sharp slap—the sound was loud within the tile and glass confines of the shower. Surprised, she broke their kiss with a gasp. Chibs watched her face as she processed what he'd done. Surprise became confusion but never made it to pleasure. Nor anger, for that matter, but he wouldn't push it.

When she leaned back in and kissed him again, he turned and pushed her against the side wall. The hot spray of the shower cascaded over and between them, slicking their contact. Sliding a hand between them, he positioned himself and pushed into her. She pulled away from his mouth again and whispered, "Oh." Her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open, her hair slicked away from her face, she looked a vision.

"You are me lovely, lovely lass." She clenched around him, and, groaning, he began to move, fast, spreading his legs for balance. He'd been slow and sweet on her bed. Now he wanted something else.

She opened her eyes. "Wait. Wait."

He stopped at once. "Something wrong, love?"

"No. I just…I want to do it." Her smile was shy.

"What d'you mean?"

"When we're like this. Can we—is there a way—can you just be still and I…move…" She flexed her hips and brought him deeper as he stood there. Jesus. "…like that." Her last two words came out on the breath of a gasp.

"Aye. Aye." He turned them and put his back against the wall. "That what you want?" She nodded. This was the first time she'd told him what she wanted so directly—that in itself was insanely hot.

She hooked her arms more tightly around him, changing her seat on him; even that shift made his cock swell and strain inside her tight sheath. Then she leaned in and kissed his neck, sucking his skin between her teeth. She moved again, flexing slowly, clenching around him as she did. Christ, so slowly. He grunted and squeezed her ass, trying to move her, without realizing he had.

"I want to do it slow," she whispered. Whatever thought he'd had of a hard fuck flew right away. The very idea of her asserting herself like this had his heart pounding in his ears—one of which she was licking, sucking on its lobe. She flexed again, pulling him deep, releasing him steadily. The feel of her ass in his hands, her muscles flexing on his palms and fingers—

"God, Laura. _God._"

She laughed—it was sultry and knowing, a little sly, and he loved the sound of it. She was getting off on this. On being in charge.

He let her have her way as long as he could, but she was driving him fucking nuts. She had him at the edge, and he could see in the way she stared at him that she was, too. Her pupils were huge, and she was gnawing on her lip the way she did right before she came. But she was still moving so very slowly. Even the slick, wet slide of her tits against his chest, her nipples rock hard, was almost more than he could take.

"Fuck, love. I can't take this." He turned and put her against the wall, which sent him deeper. They both grunted at that. "Alright?," he asked. When she nodded, he gripped her ass harder and slammed into her, over and over, grunting with the exquisite pleasure of her hot core. When she came, she stretched her arms over her head, bowing away from the wall, her moans becoming a single continuous wail. He let himself go, coming so hard it was almost pain.

The water was cooling as it sprayed over them. Chibs stood straight and relaxed his grip on her, preparing to set her down, but she tightened her grip on him. He smiled at her. "Not ready to give me up?"

"I _felt_ that."

He laughed and kissed her. "Aye. I should hope so."

"No, I mean when…when you came. I felt it—you…coming." She blushed. Damn if that pretty pink glow all over her wet, bare skin didn't get him wishing for another go. Not that he could. She'd done him in. For now.

"Ah. Contents under pressure, love. You had me wild. I like you telling me what you want."

Her blush deepened. "It was cool." Maybe he wasn't as done in as he'd thought.

"Indeed." He pulled out and set her down. "Would you still like to come with me tonight?" She nodded. "Alright, why don't you get ready, and I'll wash up in this cold shower—which I need."

-oOo-

Chibs could only think of one other time he'd been nervous pulling into the T-M lot, and that had been years ago, during that whole nasty business with Stahl and the ATF. This was very much different, but he was just about as nervous. The lot was full. He felt a measure of relief when he saw Frank's ancient Mercedes; he'd been especially worried about what he'd do with Laura while he was at Church. He backed his bike in along the rail and parked, sad to lose the feeling of his lass riding behind him.

He felt better about the way she was dressed—the same snug jeans, but a simple, light blue blouse, a denim jacket, and little flat shoes. He hadn't been thrilled about her riding in those shoes, but the only boots she had were high-heeled, and he liked that less. She needed boots for riding. He'd resisted the repeated urge to button an extra button on her blouse, because he could feel her patience with him waning as he fussed over her clothes. But Christ, she didn't know what she was walking into. If she were marked, she could go in there wearing whatever she wanted, and no one would put a hand on her.

Not that he'd want her in there in skimpy clothes under any circumstances.

He took her hand. "Ready, love?"

With a deep, nervous breath, she nodded, and they went in.

The clubhouse was crowded with women and Sons. In addition to the Redwood Sons, they were hosting brothers from the Tacoma, Rogue River, Fresno, and San Gabriel charters. They were all decent guys, but they were on the road and surrounded by fresh pussy. None of them knew Laura, and any one of them could push up on her and scare the fuck out of her before they knew better.

They weren't ten feet in from the door when Jax saw him and nodded, then got up from his seat at the bar. It was time for Church.

He pulled Laura closer and hooked his arm over her shoulder. Though she was looking around, he didn't let her slow down to really take anything in. Only nodding at the greetings from his brothers, he walked her straight through the room to the kitchen, hoping to find Frank there. He did, and she smiled when she saw them.

"Hey, guys." She walked up to them. "So, I'm gonna babysit you while Chibs goes and plays with the boys for a while. I'll tell you all their nasty little secrets, so you know what to expect." She turned a sassy eye on Chibs. "Don't worry. I'll do my best to make you look good. Won't be easy, but I got skills."

Mouthy imp. He smiled and rolled his eyes.

He took Laura's chin in his hand. She looked overwhelmed and unhappy. This was such a fucking terrible idea.

No. It wasn't. He wanted her. He wanted her in his life. This was it. She needed to know. Maybe it was wrong of him to foist the job of showing her onto the old ladies, but he didn't know what the fuck to do. Thanksgiving had proven that well and truly.

"You'll be fine, lass. I'll be back soon." He kissed her and went out to his brothers, sending a look of thanks to Frank on his way.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 18:**

Laura watched Chibs go out into the big room and then to the right. The other men were heading that way, too. That must be where Church was. There were women sitting and milling about; they were dressed a lot differently than she was. Even if she'd worn the outfit Chibs didn't like, she would still have been more conservatively dressed than the women out there, who were all tiny skirts and short shorts and fishnets and hooker boots.

Frank wasn't like that—though she was wearing a short skirt and fishnets. Her vibe was different. She was wearing combat boots and an old, tight t-shirt. But she didn't look like she was trying to be sexy. Even wearing almost the same clothes as the women out there, she didn't look like a hooker. Laura, on the other hand, apparently didn't have a choice. Her body's natural state was hooker. She glared down at her chest.

Still, Laura felt like she'd turned up at a strip club dressed for a PTA meeting.

"Don't look so glum. This place is fucked up, but it's mostly harmless, if you know what to look out for. Come on—come sit outside with me. Not like I'm cooking anything. I was just hiding in here." Frank went to the door. Laura followed, still feeling weird about all of it. She reminded herself that she wanted to be here.

Well, _wanted_ was a strong word. But Chibs wanted her to find her way in, and after talking with Viv, she'd begun to understand that she was making everything too big and scary in her head by staying away. She needed to experience it. She needed to know. Before they moved in with him. Before she really made him part of Leenie's family, she needed to know if she could live his life, if she and Leenie could fit in it. Because everybody seemed absolutely insistent that he wouldn't, maybe couldn't, change it for them.

Frank sat on the picnic table outside the door; Laura sat next to her. There was a boxing ring behind them, and Laura wondered whether that was where Chibs had fought Tig after Thanksgiving. Fought him for her honor. Her hero. She smiled.

Leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, Frank got right to business. "So, here's what tonight's going to look like, pretty much as soon as they come out of the Chapel, no matter how things went in there. The music will be loud. The booze and weed will be thick right away. And the girls will be draped all over them—the available guys. Don't worry, the Sons with old ladies, like Juice and Chibs, just get drunk. They ogle, but they behave themselves, and the girls know they risk bad shit to push up on our men. Bobby and Phil will get the grill going. These are simple guys—meat and booze and they're happy. When Gemma's not around, like tonight, they don't even bother with anything else, so if you don't like steak, you're gonna get hungry. For a while, it's pretty fun. They're good at giving and taking shit, and the betting on pool gets hilarious. It's pretty cool."

"That sounds okay." Not her scene, but not so scary. Laura was glad that Frank made a point to say that Chibs had an old lady, even though she knew that wasn't what she was. It was nice to think of Chibs like that—loyal.

She wasn't sure if Frank liked her. The way she was talking had a kind of edge that Laura wasn't sure how to read. She'd seemed more open on Thanksgiving. Maybe it was being here. Or maybe she didn't like "babysitting" her, as she'd put it. Laura felt uncomfortable about it, too.

Frank nodded. "It is. I love these guys. The girls can be kinda tricky, but the guys are cool. But around midnight, when everybody's wasted as fuck, it takes a turn. I like to be gone by then. Then it's all boobs and blow jobs—or more—and girls on the pole who have no business being up there, and sloppy drunks, and it's all very gross. The guys can get pushy, and they're big, so sometimes they're hard to manage, especially for little chicks like us. Stick with Chibs—or me. They know me, that I'm hands off."

"The pole?" Laura felt like she should be taking notes. There was a lot of information coming at her very quickly.

"Stripper pole. You didn't see it? I've never seen a woman up there who knew what she was doing—none of these chicks are actual strippers with actual talent—but the guys love it anyway. Like I told you, these guys are simple. They like their free pussy cheap."

Okay. A stripper pole? In the clubhouse? Laura took a breath before she got too far along toward freakout. As long as no one expected her up there, what did it matter?

She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to. Frank was still in mid-lecture. "That's if the meeting went okay, and they're in a decent mood. If it was bad news, it's all that, times about ten. If something big is going on, they party extra hard. Chibs'll probably take you straight out of here if the meeting was really bad. And either way, watch Tig. What he did at Thanksgiving was fucked up. He's an asshole. And he's nuts."

"I figured that out." She blushed even at the memory of what he'd said to her in front of everybody.

Frank nodded. "Yeah, you sure did. My best advice for tonight is to stay close to Chibs. If the guys see the way he is with you, they'll know you're his."

"How is he with me?" She'd never considered that other people paid any attention to the way they were together. They hadn't been around other people very much, anyway.

Now Frank smiled, and the edge Laura had been feeling from her was gone. "Like there's nobody around but you. It's sweet. He's a good guy. I love him. I've never seen him happy before. It's nice to see."

Laura felt bowled over by how good it felt to hear that. That she made Chibs happy. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Did this stuff ever scare you?"

"Yeah, it did. I held Juice off for months before we got together, because I couldn't deal with him being a Son. Sometimes it's still scary. I love the Sons. They're real people. And I don't mind a wild party or wild sex. But I hate the way it gets around here on a Friday night. I'd rather be home with my man watching _Firefly_."

"Does the other stuff scare you? The guns and jail and all that?" Laura felt naïve asking, but that was the stuff that really scared her. Wild parties she could deal with, especially if it didn't mean Chibs was with other women.

"Sure." Frank was quiet, studying her. Then, she said, "You know, we all have our stories. Juice tried to send me away to keep me clear of it. It sucked. Really sucked. I'd rather be in the middle of this with him than anywhere else. I never really fit right anywhere else. I fit here. It's not perfect, but it's a family. A good one. Fucked up, but good."

"I'm just worried about my little girl. Do you have kids?"

She laughed. "Nope. Sooo not mom material. I don't know what to tell you. It's definitely not a normal life. These guys aren't the kind of dads that, like, coach soccer or whatever. But family is _the_ most important thing to them—their brothers and their own families, both. They take pride in being good to their old ladies and kids. They take care, or at least they try. Not all bikers are like that, or even all Sons, but these guys are. Well, except maybe Tig. He has issues. But Jax and Hap are good dads. Chibs would be, too. He's kinda the club dad, anyway. He takes care of everybody."

Laura could see that. "He's a great dad. He's so good with Eileen. He's amazing—" She stopped without finishing. She'd just called Chibs a dad. She'd basically called him Leenie's dad. That threw her. That was a line she was trying not to cross.

But Frank didn't seem to notice. "I can see that. I'm kinda the wrong one to talk about kids. But I guess it's probably the same as it is with anything else. Weigh it out. Is the good worth the bad?"

"It's weird how you and Viv both have like one question I'm supposed to ask myself."

That made her laugh. "Not that weird. Keep it simple. Things get crazy around here. If you try to get your head around it all, you'll go fucking nuts. If you have a good man, and a good life, you figure the rest of it out when you need to. This isn't a life for a control freak, because we hardly ever have any control." Frank looked down at the ground, and Laura got the sense that she was thinking about something or remembering something, but she didn't ask, and Frank didn't explain. So Laura considered what she'd said.

It made sense to her. It jelled with her way of thinking. It was how she was able to stay on her feet when her parents threw her out. Don't worry about what could be. Focus on what was. See the sand. Don't worry about the ocean. Accept that there are things beyond control or comprehension. But try not to get swept away.

Laura had one last question. These past couple of days, she was starting to feel like a project. "Why are you helping me? Is this a thing you do? Like orientation or something?"

Frank laughed at that. "The thought of an old lady orientation—with, like, binders and shit, maybe a PowerPoint—that's funny. I like that. No—Chibs asked, and we love him. And yeah, if you're not brought up in this life—and Viv and I weren't—then somebody's got to tell you what's what. For us, it was Gemma. She has a unique perspective on things."

Laura's thoughts about Gemma were better left unsaid. "What about Tara?" Nobody seemed to talk about her much.

"She's awesome, but she keeps her distance from a lot of the club shit. She's busy herself, out there saving lives and all, and she just likes all this shit even less than me. Even in her own house, she keeps to the background when the crowd gets too big. Viv is pretty cool about it all. She's like a Jedi of cool." The music suddenly got a lot louder. Frank jumped off the picnic table. "That's the signal. Church is out. Ready to go in and find your man?"

-oOo-

Laura didn't know how to tell whether the meeting went well or not, but by the time she and Frank got back inside, the guys were all bellying up to the bar. Chibs saw her and came right to her. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her until she was breathless. That was nice.

He put his mouth against her ear and asked, "You and Frank have a good chat, love?"

"Yeah. It was good." She put her arms around his neck. He kissed her again, and then took her hand and went back to the bar. A young guy in a kutte—but different from the others, with almost no patches—was behind it, pouring tequila shots in a line down the bar. One of the guys—Laura didn't know him—smiled and handed her a shot glass. Chibs took it right out of her hand.

"Don't think so, love. Shots tonight is a bad idea." He looked up at the guy behind the bar. "Gordo—a brew for the lady, please."

Laura considered getting angry because Chibs was being so bossy, but then she decided that's what she wanted. She didn't understand a lot about this night, and she didn't want to do something stupid. She didn't even really want to do shots. She wasn't a big fan of beer, either. She didn't mind white wine, but nobody seemed to be offering wine—or soda or water—as an option. So she'd take the beer and nurse it. That was probably safer, anyway.

-oOo-

Three and a half beers later, Laura was feeling really good. Relaxed. A little spinny, but she was having fun. These guys were hilarious. She'd hung with Chibs for a long time, and he'd tried to teach her to play pool, but that was too sexy, with him behind her, wrapped around her, whispering instructions in her ear, for her to pay attention to the actual instructions. Then he got wrapped up in a big conversation with a couple of other big biker dude type dudes and they kept looking at her like she was in the way of them saying what they wanted to say, so she wandered off to find Frank. Which she did, but Frank was in the kitchen massively making out with her guy, so…Laura wandered some more. She went outside. Bobby—that was the guy who'd given Leenie his seat at Thanksgiving—and some humongous fat biker with glasses she didn't know were still grilling stuff. She couldn't remember if she'd seen anybody eating, but they'd been grilling since a while. She went over to say hi to Bobby.

"Hey, sweetheart. You lost?"

"Nope. I just wanted to tell you that you were really nice to Leenie and that was nice. Thank you." She kissed his furry cheek.

He put his hand on her back. "You're welcome, hon. You sure you're not lost? Where's your old man?"

"He's not really my old man. No, wait, he is, it's just I'm not really his old lady. Or something. It's complicated, he says. He's in there." She was going to say hi to the big nerdy biker dude thing, but she must have offended him, because he was going into the clubhouse. It was weird that she was being so blabby. Oh. Oh, no. Oops. She was drunk. She needed to be careful. The other time she was drunk she'd wound up pregnant. Not that she was sorry, but…she headed off toward the boxing doohickey, where there was a place to sit.

Bobby called after her, "Why don't you keep me company over here, sweetheart?" But she needed to sit, so she just waved goodbye and headed for that picnic table.

Except when she waded through a little crowd and got over there, people were having sex on it. Or almost. Close enough. Ew. She turned around and ran into a leather wall. She kind of bounced off it and almost fell, but the wall had hands—oh, it was a biker dude guy—and he grabbed her and held her steady.

"Oops—sorry!" She laughed.

"Not a problem at all, gorgeous. You look like you need somebody to look after you." The big wall-hands pulled her close. "Here. Come have a seat right here." He sat on the picnic bench, right next to the sex people, and pulled her onto his lap. He put his hand on her waist. Well, not really her waist. More like her ribs, his thumb grazing the underside of her boob. Probably accidentally, right? Jeez, he was big. Like The Rock big. Or The Hulk. One of those guys.

"Cade. She's mine."

Oh, Chibs was here. "Hi, Chibs. I was looking for a place to sit."

"I see that, lass. Seems you found one." He pulled her up. "Come with me. I'll find you someplace better to sit. Maybe get some coffee, yeah?"

"Oh—is there coffee? That'd be cool. Or, really, it would be hot." She snorted at her joke. Maybe coffee would stop the spinning in her head. Chibs pulled her close, his arm snug around her, and took her back inside. There, he found a big leather chair, unoccupied. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap.

Somehow, after what seemed like just a few seconds, she had a cup of hot coffee with milk in her hands. Chibs kissed her cheek. "As soon as you can ride, I'll get you home. I think we've had enough of this."

She sat on Chibs' lap, his arms around her, his hand playing in her hair, and drank her coffee. It was nice. She looked around. She had no idea how long they'd been there, but things were changing. Most of the conversation had stopped. Nobody was playing pool anymore. Now there were people on the table, doing other things. In fact, a lot of people were starting to do other things. There was somebody on the couch nearest them—oh, Laura recognized him from Thanksgiving, he was…Pepboy, she thought—and he had a woman's face in his lap. Oh. Wow. That was more of him than she probably needed to see.

Frank making out with Juice, the people on the picnic table, and the pool table, and the couches. Oh—and the pinball machine. That didn't look comfortable. Everybody was having some kind of sex. Laura wondered if Chibs was expecting something like that, too. He was looking at her like he was expecting something. Was it that?

Her coffee mug was empty. She leaned over and set it down on a table and turned back to Chibs, who smiled. "Think you're ready to ride, love?"

Her head still muzzy, Laura tried to decide if that was a double entendre or if he was really asking if she was ready to go home. She didn't want to do the wrong thing and make him think she wasn't good enough to be part of this. Sweet and innocent, he'd said she was. A little fool who wore a cross around her neck. Funny that her family thought she was a slut and Chibs thought she was the opposite. So what was she?

She slid off his lap, landing on her knees between his legs. He'd been slouched in the chair; now he sat up abruptly, and when she put her hands on his belt, he grabbed her arms and stood, dragging her to her feet with him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

She was too confused to even know how to answer. He looked pissed. Why? "Isn't that what—I thought—everybody—"

"Not you, Laura. Christ, love. Not you. Not here. C'mon. Let's get you some more coffee." His hand tight around her arm, he headed toward the kitchen.

Laura pulled back. "Fuck you! I don't want coffee! Tell me what I did wrong! I don't understand any of this!"

Chibs spun on his heel and grabbed her other arm, holding her again by her biceps. "You don't blow me in the middle of the fucking clubhouse! You're not like these girls! You're me old lady! You don't act like that!"

She felt like crying. She also felt like puking. His grip on her arms was tight, and try as she might, she couldn't get loose. "I'm not your old lady! I'm your mistress, remember? Because you're married! Remember?"

"Christ! Enough!" His glare sharpened to a point. He looked furious and terrifying, like he was going to do something to hurt her—and suddenly she was being dragged through the room and down a hallway. Oh, no. Oh, God. He _was_ going to hurt her. She redoubled her efforts to get free of him.

He pulled her around a corner and put her against the wall. There was a fancy bike on a platform. She found herself staring at it rather than into his blazing dark eyes. But then his hand was holding her face, wrapped over her chin. "Look at me, Laura." She didn't, and he shook her head. Oh, wow. Puking was a real possibility. "Look at me!"

She did, and his expression softened a little. "Oh fuck, love. Come on." He dragged her back down the hallway and ushered her into a bathroom. A really gross bathroom. And, yeah. Definitely going to puke. She didn't want to kneel in here, because gross!, but when she tried to squat, she almost toppled over. Then he was squatting behind her, pulling her to sit on his legs, and gathering up her hair in his fist. He held her like that until she was done, then he helped her wash up.

He didn't seem mad at all anymore. Laura felt a little steadier but no less confused.

"I need to take you home, love. Can you ride with me? Otherwise, I'll get the van."

"I can ride. I'm okay. I'm sorry."

He kissed her. She kept her mouth closed, seeing as she'd just puked. "Not to be sorry, love. I should've kept better watch. Let's get you home."

-oOo-

Laura woke in Chibs' bed, sunlight streaming over her, making her pounding head scream. She rolled away from the light, and the bed seemed to rock like it was on water. She moaned. The sound was too loud in her head. Suddenly, the room went dark; Chibs had shut the blinds.

The bed rocked as he got on it, and she felt his hand on her back. "Here, love. I've some juice for you. It'll help." She opened her eyes carefully. He was smiling down at her, a glass of orange juice in his hand. "C'mon. Up you go."

She sat up. The room swam, then settled. Chibs handed her the juice and a couple pills. When she looked at him without taking them, he smiled and said, "Just aspirin." She took them and swallowed them down with the juice. It did help. Right away, she felt a tad more human. Just getting the sludge out of her mouth helped a lot.

"Thanks."

There was a good reason she didn't like to drink. She hated being drunk and doing things she would never do. She hated the feeling of humiliation. It wasn't as bad today as it was the day after she got pregnant, but it was bad, remembering what she'd tried to do to Chibs, and how mad he'd gotten, and how she'd puked in front of him. And again, when he'd brought her back to his apartment. Oh, and she sat on some strange biker's lap, too. Some people didn't remember the stupid stuff they did. Apparently, Laura wasn't lucky like that.

He took the empty glass from her. "There's breakfast, too. Sausage and eggs. You need some grease. It'll settle your stomach."

So she went to the bathroom and tried to freshen away the corpse look she had going, then, still in her tank top and underwear, joined him at the table, convinced that there was no way at all she was putting eggs and sausage in her mouth ever again in her lifetime. She started with toast. But at his encouragement, she eventually dug into the rest of the breakfast he'd made. And he was right. But the time she'd cleaned her plate—she'd turned out to be ravenous—she felt about 90% of normal. She was thinking more clearly about the entire evening. There were some interesting things that had happened.

"Doing better now, love?" Chibs put his hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze.

"Yeah—thank you. Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"What did you mean when you said I'm not marked?"

She'd really surprised him, she could tell. "What?"

"Yesterday, in my apartment. When we were talking about that black shirt. You said it was a problem because I wasn't marked. What's that mean?"

"We should talk about it later, love, when you're feeling better. Not the time." He made a move to get up, but she grabbed his hand.

"I want to know." He scowled, but she held firm. She felt managed. And maybe in some ways that was warranted, but she could tell he was starting to think it was his job to manage her all the time, and that sucked. She didn't need a father. She needed a partner. She knew she needed to start acting like it, too.

He sighed and, nodding, stood, taking their plates to the sink. "Old ladies are marked—they have ink, a tattoo, that shows they're…bound to a Son. Other men know to keep their hands to themselves. Cade wouldn't have touched you if he'd seen a mark on you."

Cade must be the name of the big biker whose lap she'd landed on. She hadn't felt threatened by him at all, but in hindsight, she might have been on her way to some trouble. "But you can't do that to me, right? Because I can't be your old lady." She followed him in with the glasses, then leaned against the counter behind him. She hated that he was married. Sometimes she almost forgot. Other times, like now, it loomed in front of her like a mountain.

He hooked a finger into the waistband of her underwear and pulled her close. "Maybe you can be. Would you be? Would you take me ink?"

She was shocked by how badly it hurt to have that dangled before her like a hope. Tears were on her fast, about to overwhelm her. "Don't mess with me like this, Chibs. It hurts."

He put his hand on her face and wiped a stray tear away with his thumb. "I'm not, love. I can't marry you, but I _can_ give you the rest. I'd never thought it through before, but there's nothing stopping me from giving you me ink. Not me wife, no, but me old lady. And Fiona doesn't have me ink. That would be only yours. You'd be the only one, Laura. Would you do it?"

She felt woozy again. This was all new. She'd been sure she couldn't be his old lady. He'd told her she couldn't be. But that's what he'd called her last night. That's what Frank had said, too. And Bobby. God. Was that enough? A tattoo? Something, though, that set her away from his wife. Something only she had.

She didn't have any tattoos. She didn't even have pierced ears. The thought of it was scary. Which was nothing new when it came to Chibs.

"What kind of tattoo? Where?"

His grin was huge. "SAMCRO women have a crow." He turned her around so that her back was to him, and pulled the strap of her tank top off her shoulder. He traced his fingers, and then his mouth, over the skin at the edge of her right shoulder. "I think here would be lovely." He kissed the spot.

"Would you get one, too? Another one, I mean? For me? Is that a thing that happens?"

He kissed along the top of her shoulder, pushing her hair aside to suck on her neck. She loved the feel of him touching her. When he slid his hand around her waist and pulled her against his chest, the nerves and muscles between her legs danced. "Would you like that, love?"

She imagined seeing her name on him. The thought turned her heart into a knot. She felt a kind of hope she hadn't felt before. Like maybe she could look up and face the future. Maybe there was something good in it. She nodded.

"Then aye, I would."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: **You might have been expecting an inking scene in this chapter, but things with these two are a bit complicated for that yet. There's still something they really need to work out.

So…this had to happen. Sorry for the cliffie here, but I think we need Laura's perspective for the next part.

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 19:**

"The property is more than two acres, and that's protected woodland behind it, so it won't be developed. As you can see out here, the yard is nice and level, if you wanted to do some landscaping or maybe put in a pool. There's plenty of room for a nice pool. This patio's a bit plain, but the size is good, and with the right touch, you could make a nice outdoor living space out here. It's a nice place for kids—that swing set stays, obviously."

Chibs and Laura stood on the concrete patio with Loretta, their real estate agent. Eileen had scampered off into the yard when she saw the large, colorful wooden swing set. Chibs was struggling to keep his patience. They were on their third outing with the irritating Loretta, and they'd viewed more than a dozen houses for sale in and around Charming, Lodi, and even near Stockton. He'd have bought almost any of them. Beyond some particulars of size, layout, and garage space, he didn't fucking care. But Laura hadn't been able to commit to one yet. He was almost ready to buy one of the fuckers and tell her to deal with it. But he wanted her to be happy with her home.

When Loretta had sent him the listing, with about 30 photos—which he'd seen on the laptop Laura still refused to use—he'd been relieved. He'd thought she'd love this one. He'd really been hoping they'd be done. This little house had everything they needed: three bedrooms—one of them already done for a little girl, with pink and yellow wallpaper—two baths, a living room with a fireplace, dining room off the kitchen, big front porch, huge yard, and "bonus room" that could be a _fucking library_, the walls full of built-in shelves. Leenie had practically herniated herself in her excitement over the pink room. Laura had stood in the library and, apart from a slight flare of her eyes that Chibs had barely caught, had not reacted at all.

She was standing here now, her arms crossed, looking typically displeased. "There's no fence."

Even Loretta sighed at that. "No, that's true. Since the land is level and the lot is regular, though, it wouldn't be a big job to fence it."

"Two acres is a big job to fence."

Chibs put his hand on her back. "It's fine, love. We can do something we like, yeah? And have Butch and Gordo install it, if you're worried about the money—which you know you needn't be."

She shrugged. Chibs needed whiskey. Soon.

Laura walked across the patio and watched Eileen swinging. "What about schools?"

The question caught Chibs' attention. She'd only asked it about two other houses. He was beginning to think it was the question which suggested she liked what she saw. Not that she'd commit, but if he was going to push her harder, he wanted to make sure he was pushing in the right direction.

He wanted to get her and Eileen living with him, fully under his protection. The meth kids pushing into Charming were more organized than they appeared and were part of a similar network throughout the West Coast. All the West Coast charters were seeing this action, more structured and efficient in Southern California, but making noise as far north as Tacoma. Though they hadn't yet been able to pinpoint the head of what amounted to a guerilla-style meth ring, it had become clear that these shithead kids had more pop than the Sons had thought. They were still young, stupid, and mostly unsupervised, though, which made them plenty dangerous. Chibs wanted his family safe. He liked the idea of moving out of Charming and putting distance between his lasses and this new shite the club had to deal with.

He thought of those skinny, spotty skater boys standing right outside his flat deep in the night and scaring Eileen, and he wondered just how harmless they'd really been, mere feet from his wee lass.

Loretta was answering Laura's question. "This is the Lodi district. The schools that serve this address are the best in the district. The elementary and high schools are both California Distinguished Schools. We're on the edge of the service area, but there's a bus service, and the bus stop is in front of the house immediately west."

Not even in the same district with the other club kids, but considering his desire for distance—not to mention Laura's very strong dislike of Abel—Chibs thought that was a good thing. _Come on, love. Come on. This is it._

Instead of responding to Loretta's information, Laura called to Eileen. "Okay, bug—time to go!"

Eileen dragged her feet under the swing to stop it, but she had her lip out. "Mommy I don't want to go! I like this one! I want this one!"

Chibs stepped over to Loretta. "Give us a minute, yeah?"

She smiled coyly. Loretta was a flirt. Chibs wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't done some time in the clubhouse a couple of decades ago. "Sure—I'll just be out in front. Look around inside some more, too, if you'd like."

When she was gone, he went to Eileen who was standing on the patio next to her mother now, looking disappointed. "Go on and play for a few more minutes, pretty. I want to talk to your ma."

She looked up at Laura, who nodded—but not without a glare first at him. Eileen ran back off to the swings. When she was far enough away, Chibs turned to Laura.

"Why not this one?"

"The yard's too big, it's not fenced, it's too far away from the schools, and it's too expensive. And I don't like the kitchen."

"How can a yard be too big? And we can fence it. There are school buses. The money is fine. We can redo the kitchen to your liking." She opened her mouth, but he raised his hand to stop her from speaking. "It's got plenty of room, a three-car garage, there's a bedroom Eileen already loves, the yard is good for her, she'd be in a different school from Abel. Fuck, better schools than Charming. And it has a damn _library_, love." He wrapped his hands around her arms. "How can you not love this one?"

She shook him off. "If you like it so much, buy it. It's not my money."

Ah. Of course. He should take her up on that shite.

They were in another vaguely rough patch. Probably for about two weeks, since the day after she said she'd take his ink. Definitely for more than a week, since they started looking for a house. It was all making her uncomfortable. He could see it, but he didn't understand it. He was offering her stability and commitment. He was offering her himself, his life. He knew she wanted it. But she'd pulled back from him—almost imperceptibly, unless they were standing in a stranger's house discussing its value. Then her reserve was bloody obvious.

He sighed. "Alright. Let's go. We'll have Loretta find something else to show us." He wasn't sure why; if this house wasn't good enough, then good enough likely didn't exist.

He needed whiskey.

-oOo-

The next day, he'd just parked a Chevy he'd finished and was headed back to the bays when Laura pulled into the T-M lot and parked. He stopped, surprised, and headed to her car. He opened her door.

"Hello, love. Didn't expect you here."

She handed him two big bags with the deli logo. She took a third bag herself and got out of the car. "Tom sends his regards. I have an hour for lunch today, because I agreed to stay a little later to fill in this afternoon. There are sandwiches, chips, and cookies for everyone. But are you free to sit with me and eat?"

He grinned and kissed her cheek. "Aye, love. I'd like that. Let's feed the hounds, and then we can sit over there." He nodded toward the picnic table. "Alright?"

It wasn't unusual for Tom to send over free sandwiches, especially when he'd been late with his protection payment. Nor was it especially unusual for Laura to have lunch with him, since the deli was so close to T-M. He usually went there, but since the party she'd been to, she'd come to him once or twice. The only other time she'd come unannounced, though, was the day after their Christmas fight. He hoped this time, like that time, meant that she was over whatever had been eating at her.

After they tossed the food to the guys in the garage, and grabbed some sodas from the office fridge, they crossed the lot to sit a the picnic table. Laura gave it a suspicious look he didn't understand, but then she sat, and they spread out their lunch.

"Glad to see you, love. I like the surprise." He put his hand over hers, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Can I talk to you about something?" Neither had started to eat yet. He took his hand from hers and picked up his sandwich, sensing doom in her question.

"Aye." He took a bite, chewed, and swallowed while she watched.

She started and stopped three times before she got another word out. By the time she did, Chibs was sure he knew what she would say, and he was feeling desolate.

"I'm not ready. I'm sorry." She looked down and tore at the edges of the paper that had wrapped her sandwich.

He was going to make her say every fucking word. "What is it you're not ready for?"

"Moving in together, getting your crow or whatever. It's too fast. And I…I don't know. I feel like…" She faded off. Still worrying the paper, she didn't seem interested in finishing the sentence. It was an important sentence to finish.

"Like what? You wanted to talk, love. Don't drift off."

Finally, she looked up. She sighed and met his eyes at last. "I feel scared. It's a lot. We only met four months ago. I feel like I've been reckless with Leenie, getting us so wrapped up with you so fast."

"But we are wrapped up, wouldn't you say?" He didn't want to dance. He wanted her out with it. "Are you wanting to leave me, Laura?" He prepared himself for the answer. If it was yes, he didn't know how he'd be able to let her. She was right. It was only four months. A tiny sliver of time. But his life was different because of them. They had given him something, opened up something in him—stretched muscles in his heart that had gone hard from disuse. He couldn't lose what they'd brought him.

She dropped her eyes again. "I love you."

Evading was bad. He put his sandwich down, no longer remotely interested in it. "Not an answer, lass."

"No. I don't want to leave you. I love you. I just…I don't want to make a mistake and hurt Leenie. I have to try to see ahead. I have to do this right." She felt she was fighting for her daughter, and that always made her difficult. He had to tread carefully to navigate her stubborn resolve. She was afraid for Eileen, for the future. He had to convince her that her fears were unwarranted.

"Why would she get hurt? What are you afraid of? Do you not trust me?"

"I do. I just don't know if it's smart that I do."

"Have I given you cause not to?"

"No. No. God, Chibs, you are so good to me, and to Leenie. Even when things get screwed up, I still feel like you love us." Her eyes blurred suddenly with tears, and she blinked them away. Chibs thought perhaps this was the moment he could bring her back.

"Because I do. We love each other. I love Eileen. She loves me. Laura, don't fuck with that because you're afraid, or because you don't think we're doing it the right way. Think of what we have. We're happy, yeah? Eileen is happy. If you need to wait to move in with me, alright. I don't like it, but alright. But don't let it be your first step out the door. Tell me what you need to be ready. Because, love, I need you with me. Both of you. Me life was empty before you." He picked up her hand and laced his fingers with hers. When she squeezed her fingers around his, he felt a small measure of relief. He had to keep her close and help her work through this. He could not lose them.

"I'm so confused. I'm always so confused about this stuff. I used to know how to do right for Leenie. Now I feel like I never do. Since we met you, I never know."

Over Laura's shoulder, he saw Gemma's Escalade pull into the lot. She drove to the near end of the parking row, and Chibs saw through the windshield that she had a passenger.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. The timing was fucking laughable.

He squeezed Laura's hand—hard. "Laura, I love you. Do you hear me? You are me old lady. The only one. Me life is with you. Do you understand?"

"I just need time—"

"There is none, love. I love you. Only you. I need you to remember that." He turned her hand up and leaned down to press a kiss in her palm. Then he rose, came around the picnic table, and stood next to her. He put his hand on her shoulder, trying to convey to her that he was with her. He had no idea what would happen next, but he knew it would be nothing good.

Laura turned to look behind her. "Oh. Oh, God. Is that—?"

Fiona was walking toward them, Gemma at her side.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **A very short chapter, just one scene. Laura's POV is important, but then we need to get back to the fireworks.

Thanks to **Simone Santos** and **MuckyShroom** for their tireless beta-ing, especially in working through the complicated Laura/Fiona/Gemma dynamics in the scene here and in the chapter that will follow. Bonus thanks to Mucky for helping me refine some characterization for Gemma in this chapter and the next.

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 20:**

_Oh, God. Oh, my God._

Laura didn't know whether to stand or stay where she was. Chibs' hand was tight on her shoulder, almost hurting her. It was awkward to be looking around behind her at Gemma and…and…_oh, my God._

She was tall and thin, dressed stylishly and expensively, in earth tones and beautiful fabrics. Her hair was long, dark, and curly—a lot like Viv's, but with striking streaks of grey. She was beautiful, in a sort of precise way, all edges and angles. Her skin was the color of dark caramel. Laura hadn't expected that, somehow, and she realized for the first time that she had never seen a photograph of her or their daughter; if Chibs had them, he didn't display them. He had a photo of her and Leenie on his fridge, as well as the picture Leenie had made him for Christmas.

"Hello, Filip." Even her voice, with a sharp Irish lilt, was intimidating.

She called him Filip. Laura knew that was his name, of course, but it sounded so strange. He was Chibs. Only Chibs. It was almost like the woman was talking to someone else, not Laura's Chibs.

"Fiona. What are you doing here?" Laura took strength from the tone of Chibs' voice. He was angry. Really angry. She could feel it in his hand, too, gripping her shoulder.

"What, lovey, no kiss for your wife?" She'd stopped about four feet from them. Chibs hadn't moved. Laura wasn't sure she could stand if she wanted to, the way he was holding her.

"Not today, no. Why have you come?" His voice maintained that tone of steady, controlled menace.

Now the woman put her hands on her hips, in much the same way Gemma seemed to prefer to stand. "You thought I wouldn't? Our daughter tells me you've replaced her, and you thought I wouldn't come? Filip. It's like you don't know me at all."

"Aye. It's exactly like that."

She cast an appraising eye over Laura. "And is this the lass who called you Daddy, then?"

Laura wanted to disappear. She wanted to cry, she wanted to hide, she wanted to run. No—no, she didn't. She would not.

Chibs' grip on Laura's shoulder tightened more. He was bruising her. Despite his hold, and despite the horrible, acidic ocean of pain and fear and humiliation surging in her belly, Laura turned on the bench, lifting her legs over, and stood. Chibs' hold eased as he recognized her intent to stand. When she was on her feet, he put his hand on the small of her back, possessive but not restraining. She felt utterly, hopelessly ridiculous, standing there in her work t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, her hair in a ponytail. She knew full well she looked like a teenager.

Laura took a breath and stood tall—as tall as she could. Between her naturally greater height and the heels of her elegant boots, the woman—Fiona, might as well get used to saying her name—was at least six inches taller than Laura. But she squared her shoulders and said, "I'm Laura. And no, I don't call Chibs Daddy. You're thinking of my daughter." She was shaking; she could feel it everywhere. She hoped Fiona couldn't see it. She knew Chibs felt it, though, because his hand left her back to make a soothing pass down her arm and take her hand.

Fiona clucked like a schoolmarm and, returning her gaze to Chibs, shook her head. "Filip. Truly? The cliché? I'm terribly disappointed. You don't get enough free young pussy 'round the clubhouse, now you're bringing it home with you?"

Laura realized that Fiona had not addressed a word directly to her. She spoke about her as if Laura were inanimate.

Chibs pulled Laura behind him—which was silly, really, since Fiona hadn't threatened to hit her, and his body couldn't block her words, but it was sweet, too, and it did calm her a little. "What is it you want, Fee?"

"I'd say we need to talk, wouldn't you agree?"

"Not especially, no. Seems to me we're talked out." Still his voice was steady and low. But his hand shook. Not in fear or nervousness, but with the effort to maintain control. Laura wasn't sure how she knew that, but she did.

Then Gemma jumped in. "We're starting to draw a crowd, folks." Laura looked over and saw a row of Sons and Prospects at the garage doors, watching, as Gemma added, "Why don't we take this inside?" She put her hand on Chibs' arm. He jerked free of her and grabbed her arm instead, releasing his hold on Laura as he did. He yanked Gemma close.

"You and I are going to have a talk, but for now, you keep your scheming mouth shut, do you understand me? You've done your damage. You are no part of this."

Gemma's expression was equal parts outrage and fear. "Chibs, let go. You're hurting me. You can't treat me like this!"

"And why not? Who the bloody fuck do you think you are here, Gemma? You think you can fuck with me and anybody here will care that I make you pay for it? You're not a member. You're not even an old lady anymore. You _were_ old lady to the worst traitor the Sons have known. Nobody thinks you're clean of that." Gemma said nothing, just stared at Chibs, her mouth twitching erratically. Chibs shoved her away. "Jesus, Gemma. This is too fucking far. Even for you."

Laura was shocked. Chibs liked Gemma—loved her, even. She'd been too overwhelmed by the idea that Fiona was standing here in front of her to give it much thought, but now she realized that Gemma must have had a hand in bringing Fiona here. She was involved in some way. Which could only mean she was trying to get rid of Laura.

Gemma rubbed at her arm and tried to regain her composure. Then she muttered at Fiona, "I'll be in the office," and headed briskly for the garage.

Laura saw that even Fiona was discomfited by Chibs' aggression. And it was scary, something Laura had never seen before—the hot rage and pointed threat of his words and his posture. Even when he'd been very angry with her, even when he'd scared her, there'd been something that tempered it—love for her, she assumed. Not now. This was pure fire. For the first time, Laura saw that Chibs was a very dangerous man.

Then he turned to her, and his face softened completely. He took her hands gently in his. "I need to talk to Fiona alone, love. Why don't you go back to work? Your break's about over, yeah?"

She couldn't leave. He couldn't really be sending her back to her job at the sandwich shop so he could be alone with his wife. He wouldn't do that. Would he? "Chibs, please. Don't."

"Easy, lass. It means nothing, I swear. I only need to talk to her. Alright? I love you. You're me old lady, yeah? Me one and only."

He was going to make her walk away and get into her piece of crap car in front of this…_woman_. This woman who had the real claim on him. Laura had nothing. She might have had his ink, but she'd been afraid—not of the tattoo, but of the claim it meant. She'd been worried it was too soon. Now it might be too late.

But if it was too late now, then it probably always had been.

"Alright, love?"

No. Not remotely. Not at all. But she nodded. At least he walked her to her car and didn't make her walk across the lot alone. He kissed her sweetly and touched his forehead to hers for a lingering moment, murmuring, "It'll be alright, love. I swear it."

Then she got in and drove off the lot, leaving Chibs and his wife to do what they would.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **No cliffie at the end of this chapter, promise!

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 21:**

Chibs watched Laura drive out of the lot, then he turned back to the clubhouse, where his wife, still regally beautiful, was standing as he left her.

His wife. For nearly a quarter-century.

They'd lived most of those long years apart, though. He looked at her now, this woman he'd loved so much, for whom he'd given up so much, to whom he'd been loyal despite everything—despite even her protracted rejection of him—and he felt nothing but bitter fury at her presence now. He felt not even a nostalgic affection for what they had shared. The love he'd had for her was finally dead, and as he approached her, coming again face to face with her, he knew it for its truth. He did not care. He wanted her away.

He walked past her and opened the clubhouse door. "You want to talk? Fine." He went in without waiting to see if she'd follow. She did.

The clubhouse in the middle of a weekday afternoon was dark and quiet. Chibs always found the place depressing at this time of day. It looked seedy and ill-used—the old, cheap paneling scratched and discolored by years of smoke; the bar and tables gouged and dented; the red felt of the pool table stained by who knew what sorts of fluids. The place had the rank odor of stale booze, old smoke, and cheap perfume. Empty, it was a dank, lonely place.

Perfect for what lay ahead.

Still without waiting for her, he sat down at one of the tables, rickety from being toppled over time and time again. He really wanted a drink, but he didn't want to drink with her. Too friendly. So he sat and stared at her. She paused at the table as if she were waiting for him to stand and come hold her chair. When it was clear that he would not, she sat, facing him.

"I'll ask again, Fee. What is it you want?"

She folded her hands primly on the table. "I want to know what you're up to. I think I have that right."

He was wrong; he couldn't sit with her. That, too, was too friendly. He pushed away from the table and stood. "You think you have that right. And why would you think that, I wonder?" He walked to the bar. A bit of Jameson right now would be lovely, but no.

She stayed put. "Because I am your wife. If you're taking up with that child and her child, then I've a right to know what you're about."

Her statement was laughable, so he laughed. "Seven years, Fee. Seven years since Jimmy's out of the picture. This is the first time you've stepped a foot on this continent. Let's set aside the ten years afore that, when you were—as you say—_taking up_ with the man who did this to me"—he stroked the scars on his cheeks—"and forced me from me home. Let's set aside those years for a moment and discuss these past seven years. I've fucking begged you to bring me family back together. Me wife and daughter. You tell me you can't, and then that you won't. Aye, you have your reasons. Miles of reasons. But you can't bestir yourself to come for even a bloody holiday in all that time, and now—_now_ you're here. Fuck you, Fiona. You've got no right to anything here."

She stood and took a couple of steps toward him, then stopped and crossed her arms. "Since Jimmy's out of the picture, you say. You mean since you murdered him. The Smile, Filip?"

"That was justice." But something in her tone set off a series of connections in his head, and, all at once, the past seventeen years took on a new light. He'd been a fool. He turned to face her. "You loved him."

She didn't answer, but her eyes flared hot and her mouth set hard. He'd seen almost nothing of her in seventeen years, but that look was still bloody familiar.

"_You_ _fucking loved him_. Did you from the start? Did you _before_?" His hands clenched into fists. Seventeen years alone. She had let him think he'd failed his family. For all those years, she had let him think—no, she'd _made_ him think—they'd lived as little more than Jimmy O's pampered hostages. And then, even after he'd solved that problem and saved them, she'd stayed away. Because she'd loved Jimmy.

She saw his fists. Her expression softened slightly, and she said, quietly, "Not before, no."

"All these long years, you had me think you went with him, and you stayed with him, because he'd've killed you if you hadn't."

"Aye—that's true. He would have."

"But that's not why you stayed, is it? You stayed for him."

She said nothing. She didn't react at all. But he knew it was true. His clarity was suddenly perfect.

"I stayed true to you, Fee. I loved you. Christ, I _pined_ for you. Even after, when you had no end of excuses why you couldn't come. All I wanted was me family. And me girl! I couldn't hang a bloody photograph of you and Kerrianne because it hurt so damn much to come upon it unprepared. But she thinks of Jimmy as her da. I…I'm just that sad bastard who pesters her on the phone, yeah?" Bloody hell. He was _whining_. It was all on him too fast. Too much. A lifetime, fucking wasted.

"She loves you, Filip. She does. She was hurt to know she'd been replaced."

He wouldn't dignify that last with a response. If Kerrianne truly thought she could be replaced, then he had no idea what he could do about it, or whether he should even try. "But she loved Jimmy, yeah?"

"He raised her. He was good to her. To us."

He laughed again, its taste bitter on his tongue. He'd seen with his own damn eyes that Jimmy was cruel to them. There was a kind of pain in his chest he couldn't quite identify, a simultaneous expansion and contraction. Christ. He'd been so _lonely_. So fucking lonely. And he'd blamed himself, crushed under the guilt of knowing he'd left his family to the likes of Jimmy O. He'd been weak, Jimmy had nearly killed him, and he'd lost everything. He had lived with that guilt for years.

But they'd wanted to be there.

"You know, when he was in Charming before SAMCRO went to Belfast, Jimmy told me that you were getting old and used up, and he was setting his sights on our girl. That's the man you say was good to her. The one who was willing to see you both die to keep his power. That's the man you chose. And you're here now because I've finally woken up and found some happiness of me own? You hateful, treacherous cunt."

She squared her shoulders. "I'll not give you a divorce. I'll never."

He took two long strides and stood directly in front of her. Her eyes widened slightly, but she stood her ground. With one hand, he stroked her wild, dark mane, streaked so elegantly with pale grey. Christ, how he'd loved that hair, the way it curled on its own around his fingers like it was binding him to her. He ran his thumb over the sharp contours of her cheekbone and down the long line of her nose. Her brows drawn slightly, she stood and let him touch her.

With his thumb, he traced her jaw and circled the dimple in her chin. Then he put his hand on her neck, his fingers lined along the top of her spine, his thumb over her throat. Staring into her dark eyes, he kept his touch gentle. And then, abruptly, he squeezed, digging his fingers and thumb into her tender skin until he saw her cheeks redden and she clutched at his hand, struggling to breathe.

"I've not asked for a divorce, Fee. But there are other ways to end a marriage. You best get your clenched arse back to Belfast before I start considering them. And that means now. I never want to see you here again. Ever. If I do…" Leaving the threat unspoken, he released her and pushed her away. Gasping and holding her throat, she stumbled back and almost went arse over the chair she'd sat in.

Without another word or even a glance in her direction, he turned and left the clubhouse. He had to get to Laura. But first, he would deal with Gemma. Powered by a fury liberating in its intensity, he stalked to the garage office.

He saw the blinds move as he approached; she'd been watching him come. The Sons, however, had apparently not; that crowd had cleared, and they seemed to be back at work. No fools they.

When he went into the office, Gemma had backed up to the far wall, near the door into the garage. She was standing akimbo, bold, but he could see fear, too, and he was glad of it. He'd loved her. She'd eased his way into Charming, been a comfort and support in tough times. Even through the troubles with Clay, he'd stood by her. When she'd told him she'd forgotten about Laura at Christmas and had not intentionally left her in the dark, he'd chosen to take the higher path and believe her.

But what she'd done to him, to Laura, now? He would not forgive it. This was a betrayal too deep to smooth over. And yet, he wanted to know why.

He came on until he was inches from her, and he stood there. Anger roared in his ears and turned his vision red, but he fought for calm. He would not give her the satisfaction to see him lose his cool.

At first, her eyes darted back and forth, as if she were looking for an escape or a way to fight. Then they stilled, and she stared back at him.

He didn't touch her. He put his hands on either side of her and leaned in, his face only an inch or so from hers. Keeping his voice low and steady, he asked, "What are you up to, Gem? Be straight. I'm in a violent mood."

"Nothing. Trying to help you—that's all." Her eyes were defiant, but her lip trembled slightly; he suppressed the sudden urge to slap her.

"And how exactly did you think bringing her here would help?"

At that, she straightened her spine. "It wasn't my idea. She called me, asked me about what was going on with you. I didn't tell her much. Then she called again and said she was coming. All I did was agree to bring her here to talk to you. You needed to talk. She is your _wife_, after all."

"She called _again_, you say. She called at least twice, then, and you didn't think I deserved to know that?" Until today, Chibs hadn't heard from Fiona since October.

A look passed through her eyes, and he could see her searching for her play. Christ, could he trust anything she was saying? Her eyes flashed fire when she focused on him again. "I notice your little girl didn't stick around. She run off? Isn't it good to know she can't take the heat?"

He opened his mouth to tell her that Laura had not left of her own volition, but then decided that there was nothing more he would tell this woman. Ever. Not another confidence. Instead, he grinned. "Laura is mine. Laura is staying. Fiona is leaving. And you are staying the _fuck_ out of me business. You make sure of it, or I will. I'm done with you." He stepped back. "Now, take that Irish bitch back wherever you found her."

With some distance between them, Gemma's fight came back full force. She put her hands on her hips again and stood tall. "Nobody talks to me like that, asshole, and gets away with it. Nobody."

He laughed a little. He'd never looked at Gemma quite this way before. Her strength was a brittle façade, and it went no deeper. Under it, she knew. She might not be ready to admit it, but she knew. It made him sad. "You want to take me on, love, then do. You should remember your place, though. You've not got the pull you wish you had, and it's time for you to see that."

Without bothering to note her reaction, he turned. Fiona was standing in the door. He walked toward her and stopped, staring, waiting for her to clear the way. She put her hand on his arm. "You should call Kerrianne, make it right with her." Her voice was rough.

Shaking her touch off, Chibs wrapped his hand around her upper arm and pulled her clear of the door. Her throat was red and beginning to bruise, but he felt no guilt about it. "She can return any of the dozen or so messages I've left her. Me days of waiting and begging are done." He walked out the door, turned and went into the bays to take off his work shirt and grab his kutte off its hook. Shrugging it onto his shoulders, ignoring his brothers, he strode to his bike. He had to get to Laura.

The sandwich shop was only a few blocks down the road, but the ride seemed too long. He was worried. She'd been afraid to leave, and he knew she felt he'd wanted to get her out of the way. Truly, he was protecting her. But he had to make sure she knew that she was secure in his love.

Because she was. He loved her. She had saved him as much as he'd saved her. He wondered if she knew that.

He was relieved to see her station wagon in the lot of the rundown little shopping strip in which the deli had the corner shop. He parked next to that blue monstrosity and went in.

She was alone behind the counter, ringing up a customer—an older man in baggy khakis and an Oakland A's ball cap. He was the only customer—things were always quiet in the midafternoon. She looked up as the bell over the door jangled. He didn't like the fear he saw in her eyes. He smiled to reassure her; she didn't smile back.

When she looked back at her customer, she did smile. She held out his change, but he waved it off. "That's for you, honey. You have a good day."

"Thanks, Mr. Caldwell. You, too." The old guy left, giving Chibs a friendly nod, which he returned. When the door jangled closed, Chibs walked to the counter. Laura dropped some coins and couple of ones into the tip jar.

"Can we talk, love?"

Her smile gone, she shook her head. "Not here, not now." There was a door to the storage and kitchen area behind her. It was open, and she turned and shot a quick glance at it. Chibs figured Tom was back there. He knew he could get her boss to let her off now, with pay, even if Laura was the only girl working, but he also knew she hated him to interfere like that.

She turned back to him. "We can't talk now. But please. Just say, one way or the other. I can't stand not knowing."

He reached across the counter and took her hand. "She's gone, lass. Going back to Ireland. She won't be back. Ever. I feel nothing good for her anymore. You are the only woman in me life. If you'll have me, I'm yours." That was true before Fiona's ambush, but he knew it needed saying now.

She took a shaky breath; he could hear the quiver as she released it. She didn't say anything. But she squeezed his hand.

"You and Eileen come to me tonight, yeah? I'll make us supper."

Laura smiled a little and nodded. "Okay."

"Good. I love you, Laura."

She only smiled that wee smile.

-oOo-

Instead of going back to the garage, Chibs headed home to his flat. He needed to think. Everything he'd known and felt about the last _seventeen years_ of his life had been upended. He'd been loyal to vapor, to a dream. He'd been worse than a fool. He'd been a patsy.

Now, he had a second chance. He would not lose it; he knew he would never have another. Laura and Eileen were his. He loved them. He would provide for them and keep them safe. His life was often dark and uncertain, but he would give Laura the stability she needed. He would find a way. He had to make her see that. He had to allay her fears. It was not too soon. It was not.

Her reaction to his visit to the deli had been too muted, and he was nervous, waiting for them. He was relieved to see the Taurus pull up in front of his flat. He watched through the window over the table as Laura got out and went around to help Eileen, who was carrying something as though it were precious. They came up to his door, and Laura knocked and opened it.

"Hello, me lovelies."

Eileen came up to him, her smile huge and bright. She had pigtails today. He loved her hair like that. "Chibs look!" She held out a small fishbowl filled with greenery—wee mosses and pebbles, it seemed.

He squatted down and took it from her offering hands. Examining it closely, as he knew she wanted, he asked, "What is this treasure you have, pretty?"

"It's a terrar—terrar—a terrarmium. Miss Neeta helped us grow them and now this one can live with us."

"Grow it? You mean it's alive?"

"Yeah! If you touch it feels like velvet but you shouldn't touch because you can hurt it and make it not grow." Her face was very serious; this was an important fact in the care and keeping of "terrarmiums."

He would die before he lost this. This beautiful little girl who loved him, who looked up to him, who saw him with wide, trusting eyes and knew his love, knew he would never hurt her. Her amazing mother, so young and yet so old, who leaned on him and fought with him and was stronger than she knew. This little family, this new chance. He would not live without it.

He set the terrarium carefully aside and pulled Eileen into his arms. "I love you, pretty. You are me special lass."

She laughed and squirmed. "Your beard tickles." He pulled back and she put her hand on his cheeks, patting his scars. "I love you, too. You're my Chibs." He swallowed. Before he let her go, he kissed her pert little nose, brushing his beard over it and making her giggle.

They had dinner, Eileen talking nonstop about her day. After they cleaned up, they went to the park. While she played, happily running among the other children, Chibs and Laura sat on a bench and watched. They didn't talk about the day or anything else. Chibs wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to his chest, and they sat quietly. There would be time to talk when their girl was asleep.

He didn't want to talk. There had been too much talking, and too much thinking, in this day. He just wanted to be.

Eileen wanted Chibs to read to her at bedtime. That wasn't unusual; she was an equal-opportunity reading partner, but on this night, after the day leading to it, he felt rocked by her request. She selected _The Princess and the Pea_. Eileen liked to talk during stories as much as she liked to talk at any other time of her waking hours, so Chibs pulled her close and settled in, knowing they'd be there for a while. Laura took her blue silk journal out of her bag—she was almost at the end of it now—and sat at the table to write.

For most of the story, Eileen supplemented invented details about the characters, but on one page, showing the princess's bed, she stopped and said. "I would want a fairy princess bed like that. It looks like a castle. If I had a bed like that I wouldn't be grumpy like the princess." Eileen almost never talked about things she wanted to have. It was a white canopy bed draped with pink fabric. Except for the fantastic mountain of mattresses, it was the kind of bed she could certainly have. And she would. She hadn't had a bed of her own for months. She would have her fairy princess bedroom with a bed that looked like a castle.

He knew not to tell her that, lest he face the fire of her mother's wrath, so he said, "It does look like a castle. You're right." She nodded, smiling up at him, and they continued with the story.

She was drowsing before the story was over, and when Chibs laid her down and pulled the blanket over her, she rolled to face the back of the couch, tucking Mr. Snuffles under her chin, and was still.

Laura had said good night to Eileen during the story, and she was already in the bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the bed. She wasn't reading or writing; she was only sitting there, staring at her hands. She didn't look up when Chibs came in. He locked the door and went around the bed. Kneeling at the side, he pulled her around to face him.

"Love. It's alright. We're alright now. She is well and truly gone."

She looked up at him, her eyes dark and serious. "Still your wife?"

He dropped his head to the mattress. Goddammit. She had to let it go. Gripping her legs, he stared hard into her eyes. "Laura, that's not going to change. Please, love. Let it go. We can have everything. We can be a family. We already are. Take me ink. I'll take yours. It means so much more."

"If your marriage is so meaningless, I don't understand why you can't end it. If it's such a solemn vow, I don't understand why we can have everything else. None of it makes sense to me."

Enough. He could not have this fight anymore. This was the day that Fiona would be put to rest—so to speak. They were going to sit where they were until his wife was dealt with. He picked up the wee gold cross from her chest, hooking a finger through the chain and pulling it out from under her t-shirt. "Laura. You believe, yeah? You were brought up with it." She nodded. "As was I, love. Catholic. Marriage is a sacrament. Divorce is forbidden."

She scoffed. "So is adultery. And there's more to the vow you took than just not to get divorced."

"Aye. You're right. I've broken most of the vows. Fuck, all of them, I expect. But the sacrament cannot be broken. I can't explain it better than that, love. Even though you're not Catholic, I would hope you can understand." He looked hard at her, trying to convince her through sheer force of will. She stared back but said nothing.

He got up from his knees and sat next to her on the bed. Lifting her hand from her lap, he put it on his cheek, over the scar. "You've never asked about these. I want to tell you how I got them. It's the story of me marriage, really." She flinched at that, but he didn't let her go.

He told her everything. All of it. He even told her about Jimmy's end, which was tantamount to putting his life in her hands, but he knew he could trust her. He told her about the years alone and the loneliness. He told what he'd learned earlier in the day—the humiliating folly of that loneliness.

She sat quietly and listened. When he'd told her all that, he kissed her hand. "I love you, Laura. Do you know what you mean to me? You and Eileen? You mean _everything_. You mean a chance to have a family, a full life, after so many years alone. You mean love when I had none. When I tell you that the fact that I got married twenty-five years ago means nothing to us, it's because you mean everything to me. If you love me, believe that. Be with me. Be me family."

He had nothing more. If opening that wound for her wasn't enough to convince her that she had nothing to fear, then he would lose her. He sat with her and held her hands and waited.

She stared down at their linked hands. After long, painfully silent seconds, her hands tightened around his. He couldn't wait any longer; he had to break the silence. He had to know. "Laura."

She lifted her head and looked at him, and he knew. He knew. She was his.

"I believe you," she whispered.

He let go of her hands and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close, his mouth covering hers completely. She opened to him and leaned back, bringing them down to the bed. He kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her sweet mouth, caressing her tongue as it moved with him. She moaned, and her lips closed to suck at his tongue.

Bringing one hand from her back over the firm contour of her slim waist, he pushed between them to open her jeans. When his hand touched the hot skin of her belly, she gasped and flexed her hips. He could feel her muscles trembling. She always trembled, as if the sensations of their sex were too much for her body to contain. It was one of the most erotic things he'd ever known.

He shifted slightly to her side and pushed his hand into her jeans, under the silky caress of her underwear. Cupping her mound in his hand, he lingered there, his fingers still, resting on her folds, feeling the bud of her clit against his skin. When he'd first seen her naked, she'd had a soft yellow bush, but now she kept it trimmed very short and shaped gently into a neat triangle of almost invisibly pale hair. He missed the bush, but he love the heat of her skin, and how, this way, he could feel every drop of her wetness. And she was so very wet. He pushed his hand farther and slid two fingers into her hot depth.

She tore her mouth from his with a gasp, arching at his touch. He'd gone too quickly; she was far too dressed. He couldn't get to her tits, and he didn't want to let go of the treasure in his hand. He looked down at her eyes, lidded with desire, her mouth swollen and red from their kiss. "Bare yourself for me, love."

He could see that she didn't understand at first what he was asking, but then she got it. She smiled and lifted her t-shirt and bra up until her fantastic tits were free for him. He bent his head and took a rosy nipple into his mouth, suckling firmly, tasting her, as he plunged his fingers into her. She was tight and soft and wet, and her hips were moving against his rhythm in the most delightfully erratic way. Her fingers laced in his hair and pulling, she held his head to her chest. She was coming into her own, his young love. She blushed less and demanded more.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, oh, oh, oh, GOD!"

She also made a lot more noise, and as he ground the heel of his hand on her clit and she reached her climax, he left her breast to cover her mouth with his and swallow her cries, before she woke Eileen. As her throes ended, she grabbed his hand to hold it still. He kissed her until she was calm.

He raised his head and looked down at her flushed, breathless beauty. "Ah, lass. I do love you."

Her smile was satisfied, maybe even a little smug. "Don't be done. I want more."

He laughed. After the day they'd had, it felt good to laugh with such ease. "I'm not. I've much more I want to do to you. She put her arms between them and pulled her t-shirt and her bra over her head.

He got up from the bed and stripped, watching as Laura lay where she was and finished taking her clothes off, too. She was so very lovely, and not simply her ample tits, with their round firmness of youth. Her legs and arms were shapely, her hips and belly firm, if a bit disproportionately slight. He loved the faint lines that showed she had grown that beautiful child in her own body. She was simply breathtaking. When he was as bare as she was, he joined her again on the bed, kneeling between her legs and pulling her up to straddle his lap.

The position was hard on his knees, but she was a wee thing, and stirred up. He could handle it long enough to get her there again. With one arm under her arse, lifting her a bit, he positioned himself and pushed in, sliding easily into her. His eyes rolled back at the feeling of her skin wrapped so snugly around his skin. They'd been able to go without condoms for many weeks now, but each time his bare cock felt the hot satin of her core was a revelation. Christ.

"Oh, that's so good," she gasped.

"Aye. Nothing feels like this." He moved his arm and settled her on his lap. He intended to grab her hips and lift into her, but then she did something wonderful. She set her feet flat on the bed and began to move. She rocked on him slowly at first, getting the feel and rhythm of this position. Then he saw her smile—a grin like the Cheshire cat, as she understood how much control she could take this way, and how deep, how fucking deep she could bring him. She hooked a hand around his neck and leaned back, riding him like a horse. She'd taken down her ponytail when she'd undressed, and now her silky hair danced over his arms and legs as she rode.

Oh, Christ, she was going to have him off before she got her second go.

To slow her down, he pulled her against his chest. They were face to face, their hot breath mingling. She tried to move, and he held her tighter. He was close. He needed a second. "Tell me you're mine," he whispered.

She didn't hesitate. "I am. I'm yours."

"Tell me you'll stay with me." He leaned in and suckled at her throat, and she tipped her head to the side and moaned.

"I will." She was breathing as heavily as he was, but the words came quickly. She no longer needed to consider her answer.

He let go of her throat and looked into her eyes. "Are we a family, love?"

That, she didn't answer right away. They stared at each other. Chibs felt like she was looking for the answer in his eyes. She must finally have seen the right thing, because she nodded.

"Laura, I love you." He leaned forward, taking them down to the bed. Hooking his arms under her knees, he pulled her legs up and pushed into her as deeply as he could. She gasped and arched up at the penetration, and then he really moved, pounding into her, focused on the sensation of her slick core pulling and releasing his cock. She came again after only a few thrusts, her jaw clenched to hold back her moans, her arms flailing wide, her hands grabbing at the pillows. He relaxed his control over his own need and thrust heavily into her until the heat charged through his belly and into his veins, and he came, straining against the urge to shout.

They lay together in a steamy knot for a long time, until neither was panting any longer. Chibs raised up on his elbows and looked down at her. She smiled up at him. She was relaxed and at her ease. It was rare for her to be so unguarded, and she was never sexier than when she was.

"You're mine, yeah? No more doubt."

She brushed his hair back from his brow. "No more doubt."


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: **I have finished writing this story; it's 30 chapters long. My stories tend to have 3 arcs, so we're at the beginning of the last arc now. Just a heads up that the end is in sight, but there are still doings ahead.

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 22:**

"It'll be fine, Laura. I told you—he's very good, and he's a good fella. And it's just us. No big production. You needn't be scared."

"You won't go first?" She knew the answer before she asked, but she asked anyway.

"Not the way it works, love. You know that." He'd explained the significance of the tattoo. Hers was important to the club. That he was going to wear her mark was important only to the two of them. She had to go first.

Chibs had his hand on the back door of the Taurus, about to open it to help Eileen out. Laura was standing next to the car, feeling a little freaked out. They were at Happy and Viv's house for dinner. Also so Happy could give her a crow tattoo—and give Chibs a tattoo for her, too. When he'd told her that Happy would do their ink, she'd felt a little sick. She thought Viv was great—smart, confident, funny—and Viv loved Happy, so he couldn't be all bad, but Laura still felt scared.

He just looked so angry all the time. Well, most of the few times she'd seen him, anyway. She had to admit she didn't have a lot of experience with any of the Sons yet. That party was kind of a blur, and when she went to the garage during the day, she only spent time with Chibs, and only for a little while.

She was scared about Happy, she was scared about getting a tattoo, but she wasn't scared about what it meant. Actually seeing Fiona had made her more human and less scary, and knowing that Chibs had turned her right around and sent her back to Ireland—that he'd really chosen Laura—helped her set aside the marriage thing. It wasn't ideal, and she knew she'd feel it like a scar on their relationship as long as it was true. But he had picked her. And, anyway, nothing she'd done yet in her adult life was the "right" way to do it. She had hoped that someday she'd get married, but the ceremony wasn't the really important thing. The commitment was what mattered. She finally really believed that Chibs was hers. His desire to put this mark on her, and his willingness to take a mark for her, now felt like all the commitment she and Leenie needed.

She knew she had to figure out how to be comfortable with the club, but Chibs wasn't pushing, and that helped. In fact, he was actually helping. He'd had a new idea she liked better. Instead of big parties where it was all too much and everybody had a rhythm she and Leenie had to try to fit into right away, he suggested things like this—getting to know people one or two at a time.

Of course the first dinner also being the site of her first tattoo, inked by Happy the Terrifying Biker, made things a _bit_ more complicated. But okay. _Here goes_.

-oOo-

Their house was nice—but in a normal way, not like the monster that Jax and Tara lived in. This was just a pretty little house, its curb appeal marred a little by bars on all the windows and doors. They were "decorative," with scrollwork, but they were still bars. Laura wondered at that.

Inside, though, the house was comfortable and nicely, but not expensively, decorated. Viv gave her a little tour as Happy and Chibs went out to the garage to look over a bike Happy was apparently rebuilding.

The furniture was sort of mix and match, with lots of older pieces and some new things all working together. There was a whole hallway of family pictures, a lot of them old and really cool. Everything was very neat and tidy, even Hope's toys stored neatly, and it all looked a way that Laura thought of as "intentional." That had so far been her greatest wish for her own home—that it looked like she meant to make it look that way, and not like she was slapping things together from dumpster finds.

They had a huge German Shepherd, whose name was Tigger, which Laura thought was weird and funny. She had grown up with dogs, but little ones, lap dogs, so Tigger made her nervous at first. But he was a big lug who followed Viv and Hope everywhere and seemed to take it as his job to keep an eye on Hope. Leenie already knew him from her sleepover and clearly loved him, and he bore up well under her frequent, lingering hugs and kisses. It seemed like maybe he'd adopted her as one of his charges.

Viv took her and the girls, with the dog at their heels, out into the back yard, which was a nice little yard with pretty plantings and a simple patio. But there was a room off the garage which Viv was obviously really proud of—and it was wonderful. A music room, with all kinds of gear and instruments, including a grand piano, comfortable furniture and funky art and photos. This was Viv's own space. Laura thought she'd love to have a room like this, just hers—and then she realized with a grin that she would.

After their trip to the zoo, and their heart-to-heart talk about the Sons, Laura felt more at ease with Viv, and they chatted and laughed. They mostly talked about the kids, or about the house, as Viv showed her around, but it was nice. She didn't know if Viv was a friend, but she was friendly, and she didn't seem to judge or look down on Laura, and that was all Laura really needed. This night felt much better than Thanksgiving. It felt safer. Laura figured it was probably pretty silly to think that way, but she didn't think she had a choice. Thanksgiving had scared her.

For dinner, Viv had made a kind of casserole, with chicken and feta cheese, and salad and bread. Laura had been surprised that they were eating before the tattoos. She had no idea how much it would hurt, and she was afraid she might throw up, but Happy insisted that she needed a good meal first and that she would feel better for it. So, after about half an hour during which Laura and Viv put the final touches on dinner while the girls sat at a small table in the kitchen doing wooden puzzles, Viv called the men in from the garage, and everybody sat down to eat.

The conversation around the table was mostly friendly chat. Happy really wasn't much of a talker, but he didn't look nearly so scary, and Laura was starting to feel more comfortable around him. He was more like the man who'd played with his little girl at Thanksgiving, smiling and laughing, helping Hope with her dinner. He gave Hope a sharp, angry look once, when, protesting some unmet demand, she threw her spoon from her high chair onto the table, but otherwise, he looked much nicer than the image she usually saw in her head. It was telling that Leenie was completely comfortable with him, and he was nice to her. Not effusive, but nice.

Nobody was drinking at dinner, and that had surprised Laura, since this was a hard-drinking crowd, but she guessed the tattoo part of the evening's agenda might have been a factor.

They'd all been talking about the house Chibs and Laura were buying—the one with the library. They were in escrow. Happy looked at Chibs. "Why Lodi? Kinda far out."

Chibs answered, "Aye, but it's a good house, and the schools are good for Eileen. A little distance from the clubhouse s'not such a bad thing, maybe." Laura caught a look between Happy and Viv that she didn't understand.

"It's good to have your brothers close. We already got Juice and Frank out too far, and you're talking about going farther," Happy said.

Chibs nodded, but said, "There wasn't anything in Charming worth two looks, Hap. This is a good house, and not that far from the clubhouse—I can ride it in twenty minutes." The reality was that the distance—and the different school district—was as much of a selling point to Laura as the library or the bedroom Leenie loved. She hadn't been thrilled at the idea of Leenie going to the same school with Abel Teller. She knew he was only a kid, and it was probably screwed up to dislike him so much, but he was a kid who picked on littler kids. On _toddlers_.

Hap made a kind of half-shrug like he'd said his piece and was done, and they went back to aimless chatting. It was nice, though. It felt like a family thing, sitting around the table sharing a meal. Laura had never had anything like this as an adult. Every time Chibs touched her, just a stroke of her arm or a squeeze of her knee, she felt more like she was really a part of the scene. When the meal was mostly over, and they were still sitting while the girls finished, Chibs leaned back and put his arm over the back of her chair. The gesture was casually possessive, and Laura loved it.

After dinner, Laura and Viv cleaned up their daughters and then cleaned up the dishes. When they were finishing up, Viv took the towel from Laura and said, "We're about done here, baby. Why don't you tell the men it's time to get set up—I got the girls."

Laura felt butterflies, but she went. She found Chibs and Happy in the living room. They were standing near a bookshelf. Happy was holding a dark metal box that looked a little bit like a shoebox. The box was open, and he was holding a gun close to his body. Shocked, Laura stopped in the entry and didn't say anything.

"It's biometric—it only opens with my fingerprint or Vivian's. Then, gun's ready to go." Happy put the gun back in the box, closed the lid and put the box behind a door in the bookshelf.

Chibs nodded, and Laura could see he was impressed. "How many've you got?"

"Every room, brother. Every fuckin' room. Bathrooms, too. After…I don't take a fuckin' chance."

"Viv's okay with that? Even with Hope?"

Hap gave him an impatient look but said nothing. Chibs nodded again. With the sudden realization that she'd been eavesdropping, and that was probably an even worse idea around these guys than it would normally be, Laura cleared her throat. "Hey—sorry to interrupt. Viv says it's time to get set up." Both men turned to her. Hap simply nodded. Chibs gave her a look that said he wondered how much she'd heard and seen. She smiled at him and went back to the kitchen. She didn't know what to think about what she'd heard and seen or whether she could even bring it up, but she knew she couldn't do it here.

Happy set his stuff up in the kitchen and then turned a chair and gestured for Laura to sit in it. She did. She'd taken off her sweater and was wearing just a bra and a blue knit camisole, and she felt self-conscious about her chest, but Hap barely seemed to notice. Viv and Laura had set the girls up in the living room, and Leenie was "reading" books to Hope; Viv was going to keep track of them while the tattooing was going on.

Happy showed her three sketches. Actually, he showed Chibs, but she could see them, too. They were all beautiful, but they were all pretty big—a lot bigger than Laura had imagined. He was describing possible placement—again, to Chibs, and not to her. She was starting to get pissed off.

"Hey—my body, right? Can I have a say?"

They both looked at her. Chibs smiled and reached out to brush her cheek with a finger. "'Course, love. What d'you say?"

"They're all kinda big. Is that the size it would be?"

Happy answered. "Better detail with some size, especially something like a crow." He looked at Chibs. "I'll do smaller, if that's what you want, but it won't be as clean or detailed."

She answered, trying not to be offended because Happy thought Chibs was more important in this decision that she was. There must be something she didn't understand. "I want it to look good. It's just…it's so big and black."

Happy stared at her, looking a little scary again. "It's a crow."

Chibs squatted next to her chair. "Having second thoughts, lass?"

"No! I'm not. It's just a lot. I never thought I'd have a tattoo, and it's just a lot."

Happy huffed a sigh. "Hold on." He left the room. He was gone for several minutes, during which Chibs sat at the table with her and made conversation clearly intended to take her mind off the proceedings, and then he came back with a laptop, open in his hands. "How about this? Asked Vivian to find some pictures. I'm seeing more of this around. It's different. Wouldn't be like any other Sons crow, but your situation isn't like others." He showed the screen to Chibs, and Laura huffed. Chibs turned the screen so Laura could see.

"Oh. That's pretty. Is that okay? Could I do that?" It was a lot more subtle, which might sort of be beside the point.

"You like it, love?" Chibs put his hand over her shoulder. "Right here, the wings on either side?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I like that."

Happy closed the laptop and looked around like he didn't know what to do with it. The way he was holding it indicated that he _really_ didn't know what to do with it—like he was concerned it might explode while he held it. He was clearly not a computer person. Finally, he set it on the counter.

"If you can get through in one sitting, it's gonna take a few hours. You up for that?"

She had no idea, but she nodded, and Happy put a pair of glasses on his nose and got to work.

-oOo-

When she was done, Happy took a few minutes' break and then did Chibs. Laura went to check on Leenie, who was sleeping alone on their couch. Mr. Snuffles was tucked under her chin, having been rescued at some point from her pack. Viv had put Hope to bed a while ago. Laura hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

Getting the tattoo had hurt. A lot. At first, she thought she wouldn't be able to deal, but then she sort of got used to it, and for a while it was okay. Then it got really sore again, and she was in a pretty bad mood by the time it was done. Especially since she couldn't really see what was going on.

She had no idea what Chibs' tattoo would look like, and he wanted it to be a surprise, so she was staying out of the kitchen. She was feeling irritated that she'd had to fight for say about her own, and she couldn't even watch him get his. She was going to need a map and a compass before she could understand the way these guys worked.

She didn't know where Viv was. She found the bathroom and went in, determined to get a decent look at her new ink. Hap had handed her a small mirror, but she hadn't been able to tell much. Chibs, though, was clearly thrilled, so she took that as a good sign. But she wanted to get to know this new, permanent thing about her.

The mirror over the sink was one of those three-section things, and she moved them around a little so she could get a look at the front and the back. She took the wrapping off and laid it carefully on the counter so she could put it back on. Then she studied her tattoo. A crow, its body centered on her right shoulder, its tail feathers on her upper arm and its head on the top of her shoulder, slightly to the front. The wings were open, embracing her shoulder, front and back.

A white crow, its feathers shaded and detailed with light grey. Holding a small, pale purple thistle in its beak. When Chibs had asked Happy for the flower detail, and Laura had asked why, he'd told her it was a symbol of Scotland. She'd thought that was cool.

She'd never seen anything like it. Even red and inflamed, it was beautiful. It was far bigger than she'd imagined before today, wrapped around her whole shoulder, but it was beautiful. Chibs' mark. No one else in the world had his mark but her. No one.

She'd found Viv in the music room, and they were sitting out there together, Vivian playing a guitar and, at Laura's prompting, telling stories about her old band, when Chibs came out to say he was done. He wasn't wearing his kutte, and the sleeves of his black shirt were cuffed to the elbow. Laura saw her name inked prominently in black on the inside of his right forearm, in Celtic lettering, over a Celtic knot. She went to him and lifted his arm to take a closer look. Her name. _Hers_. On him. He was hers. When she looked up into his eyes, she saw that he felt the weight and power of the moment, too.

He put his left hand on her hip and pulled her close to brush a soft kiss over her lips. "I love you, Laura."

"I love you." She had never felt her love for him or his for her more strongly than in that moment. He'd spoken of being marked as a "binding." She understood now.

-oOo-

At Viv's insistence, they left Leenie to spend the night—but not before Laura woke her and asked if she wanted to stay. She did, but Laura still felt a little guilty twitch for changing up the plan on her so late.

Then again, it meant a night alone with Chibs. Those were rare indeed.

When they got back to his apartment, she went in, and he walked up to get his mail. Laura had had an idea on the drive back, and she used the opportunity of his few minutes' absence to make it happen. She had a lot of clothes at his place—Leenie did, too. They were here well more than half the time. She found the lingerie box from Christmas—with the beautiful outfit she hadn't yet worn, because she was worried about Leenie seeing her in it—and she snagged the black pumps that were still in his apartment from Thanksgiving. Then she hurried into the bathroom and closed the door.

More than two months after Christmas, Laura hadn't even tried on the deep blue lace sex outfit Chibs had given her. She felt weird about it when Leenie was around, and there hadn't really been an opportunity when she wasn't around. Until now. She stripped and opened the box. It was so pretty. For a second, she simply petted it where it lay in the tissue paper.

"Laura? Alright, love? Shoulder hurting?" Chibs was just outside the door.

"No, I'm okay. I'll be out in a minute." She could hear his hand brush the door, and then it was quiet. He'd probably gone to the bedroom.

She put on each filmy piece, starting with the thong. Then the bra, with its demi cups that somehow fit exactly right, cupping her breasts as intended, without making quadroboobs. It was the prettiest bra she'd ever had. It must have cost a fortune.

She'd never worn stockings or a garter belt. She figured it would be fairly straightforward, but it ended up taking some time. The stockings were seamed, and it took a minute to make sure the lines were straight. And then she had to figure out the garter hooks. That took a couple minutes more. Finally, she pulled the little lace skirt over her hips and slid her feet into her black pumps.

When she was dressed, she pulled her hair loose from its braided knot, and bent over to brush it out. She tossed her head back and removed the wrapping from her new tattoo. Then, and only then, did she let herself really look in the mirror.

She was astonished. She looked…beautiful. Laura knew she wasn't ugly, but this was different. The color, the lace, the fit—the outfit was perfect, but it was more than the beauty of the lingerie. As if the lace was imbued with some kind of magic, she felt like she fit the clothes as much as they fit her. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt truly sexy before, but she did now.

Her new tattoo was only a few hours old and still pink and a bit puffy, but much less than it had first been. It really was wonderful—and not only because of what it meant. The crow was intricately detailed—Happy was a real artist. Laura didn't know if there was such a thing as a white crow in nature, but she loved her white crow. It also made her feel sexy. She was Chibs' old lady.

Leaving the clothes she'd worn to dinner in a neat pile on the bathroom counter, she opened the door and went down the short hall to the bedroom. Chibs was standing at the dresser, taking his rings off, his back to the door. He was wearing nothing but his jeans. Laura loved all of his lean, fit body, but she thought he looked sexiest like this—shirtless, barefoot, dark jeans slung across his hips. She stopped in the doorway and looked, waiting quietly for him to turn around.

When he did, she popped her hip and tried to give him a sexy look—his expression told her immediately that she'd succeeded. His mouth dropped open and he stood there. "_Jesus_, love. You… are lovely." He walked to her.

As he came to her, she saw it. She forgot all about being sexy, and her eyes filled with tears.

He'd gotten another tattoo. When he reached her and put his hands on her hips, she lightly laid her hand over his heart. Just above the name _Kerrianne_, he now bore the name _Eileen_ in the same Celtic lettering. He put his hand over hers, pressing down, and she began to sob. She couldn't help it. They were wanted, she and her little girl. After years alone. They were loved.

She'd been so afraid she was making a mistake, moving too fast with him, putting Leenie and herself in a position to be hurt and desperate again. But how could this be a mistake? This man, their hero, who wanted them both enough to etch it into his own skin? She now bore his mark; he bore their _names_.

He pulled her close and kissed her head. Whispering into her ear, he asked, "Ah, lass. Happy tears, I hope?"

She nodded. "Very. I love it. I love _you_. Thank you."

"Me promise to you, love." His words made her cry harder, and he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her cheeks, and then her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck as tightly as she could, kissing him back, making the kiss harder, more fierce, needing somehow to show him how full and light she suddenly felt. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She was awash with so much love for him she felt like it would overwhelm her, pull her under, unless she could find a way to express it.

He was growling into her mouth, kissing her with the same passion, and his hands moved from her back to her ass. All at once she became aware of their bodies as well as their hearts. She was crushed against his hot, bare chest, and she was wearing skimpy, filmy, sex clothes. As Chibs cupped her ass in his hands and held her close, his fingers gripping her skin, she felt the lace of her thong pressing hard against her clit.

Oh, lord, she was turned on, like the emotional impact of seeing her daughter's—_their_ daughter's?—name on his chest had added a turbo boost to her libido.

She'd intended to try a seduction thing. She'd completely forgotten. She tore her mouth away from his and pushed at his shoulders until, groaning, he loosened his hold on her.

He looked down at her, panting, his dark eyes laser-hot. "Love?"

She smiled and pushed on his chest. He backed up until he hit the bed. Then he grinned broadly, his scarred dimples deepening, and she could see that it had dawned on him what she was doing. She slid her fingers into his waistband and opened his jeans. Pushing her hands around to his hips, she brought his jeans and boxers down, over his impressive erection, to the floor, and he stepped out of them. When he was standing naked before her, she pushed him again, and he sat down on the bed with a laugh.

She started to get onto the bed with him, but he stopped her. "Show me, love. Let me look at you."

She took a step back, now feeling a little self-conscious. She didn't know what she should do. He reached out and put a hand on her hip, pulling gently, and she realized that he wanted her to turn around. She did, and then he slid off the bed to his knees behind her. As she stood there, she felt his hands circling her ankles. Slowly, gently, his hands moved up over her calves, her knees, her thighs, his thumbs tracing the seams in her stockings all the way. The feel of him moving over the silk was inexpressibly sensual, and she closed her eyes and focused on it. She'd wanted to seduce him, but this was too good to stop.

When he reached the garters, he pushed his fingers under them and moved to her ass, his thumbs between her legs, caressing her cleft. She moaned, and her knees gave a little.

He caught her, chuckling, and pressed his lips to her lower back. "Easy, love. Do you know how beautiful you are? How sexy? In these little lacy bits…Jesus. You've brought me to me knees." His hands slid to her hips and turned her around again. Then he lifted the little skirt, leaned in, and sucked her clit through lace, biting down into the meat behind that nub. It didn't hurt, but it surprised her; the sensation was fiery intense. She cried out and thrust her hips against his face, threading her hands into his hair.

Releasing her, he continued on, kissing his way up, over her belly and ribs, his beard brushing lightly against her skin, until he was standing. When he bent down to take a breast into his mouth, she pulled him up by his hair. She smiled and kissed him. "I want to do it." He cocked his head, and she pushed him back down to the mattress.

As she put her knee on the bed, he moved backwards to lie crossways, his hands behind his head. She could see her name on his arm, the muscles under it taut and strong. It was still shiny and swollen in its newness, but it didn't seem to pain him. She hadn't thought about the achy sting of her shoulder since she'd come into the bedroom and he'd turned to look at her.

Still dressed in her heels and stockings and all the blue lace lingerie, she crawled over him, over his rigid, upright cock, until her hands were under his arms and she was looking down into his handsome, grinning face. "Have your way, love. Have your way," he murmured. She intended to. With her hair draped around them, she bent down and kissed him, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. She loved the taste of him—always at least a little bit like whiskey and smoke, but something else, too, something that was just him. It seemed a distinctly male flavor. When she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, he groaned and lifted his head, but he didn't move his hands. Good. She wanted free rein.

She kissed his chin, stopping to nuzzle her nose into his beard, then along his jaw to his ear, sucking the lobe. He took a shaky breath and whispered, "Love," very low, and she smiled. It felt good, making him feel good. Straddling his hips, leaning forward as she was, she could feel his erection teasing at her core. When she pressed her open mouth to the side of his neck and bit him, trying to be gentle but not _too_ gentle, he groaned and flexed his hips to push himself hard against the lace of her thong, a barrier between them. She lightly kissed his chest, near Eileen's name, and then sat upright astride him.

Her eyes locked with his, she reached between her legs and pulled her thong to the side, then took him in her other hand and held him steady so she could sink down onto him. She went slowly. She liked when they went slowly, so she could really feel the way he filled her, so she could feel the shape of him inside her.

He groaned and gasped, "Oh, fuck, lass. Ah, that's good." Then he brought his hands forward to stroke her thighs, his fingers teasing at her garters. He moved up to caress her sides and belly. She sat still, straddling him, feeling him inside her and on her.

When she began to move, rocking slowly, trying to make him as deep as she could before she moved the other way, trying to feel his body against her clit, he bent his head back, his neck arching off the bed. God, she felt so hot. She felt her pulse throbbing heavily between her legs, around him, and she knew she was going to come soon.

He knew it, too. He relaxed his neck and stared at her, not smiling, his eyes so hot and filled with the need of her that her heart felt bruised at the sight. He lifted his hands from her waist and cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples through the blue lace. She arched backward, shivering, as her nerve endings from her nipples to her clit felt the shock.

She sped up. She needed to come.

She moved faster and faster, chasing the ecstasy, moaning with every exhale. He groaned with her, flexing as she rocked, his hands moving from her breasts to her waist to her clit, never still. Finally he gasped, "Christ, Laura. I can't—."

He didn't finish the sentence, but he grabbed her hips and sat up abruptly, breathing heavily, sweat beading his brow. Sliding his hands under her ass, he lifted her and rolled, putting her under him. The part of her crow over the back of her shoulder pressed down into the mattress, and she hissed a bit, more in surprise than deep pain.

"Sorry, love," Chibs gasped, and he shifted them a little to bring her shoulder off the bed. Then, hovering over her, he drove into her, his face a mask of concentration. She'd loved being in charge, taking control, but she loved more giving herself over to him, not thinking of anything but what he was doing to her. And tonight, she didn't have to think about what Leenie could hear. She relaxed completely and let herself be in this moment, feeling this man she loved so much make love to her, knowing he loved her. Still in all her lingerie and her high heels, feeling sexier than she ever had, she crossed her ankles on the small of his back and surrendered herself to his surging thrusts.

He surprised her by slowing down and laughing. She opened her eyes, not sure if she'd done something he was mocking. "What?"

"Your heels are digging into me arse." His breathing was labored, but his grin was big and wicked.

"Oh, sorry." Embarrassed, she immediately loosened her grip around his waist and started to bring her legs to the side, but he stopped her and put them back where they'd been.

"No, lass. I love it." To emphasize his point, he slid his hand to her shoe and pressed it against his skin. Then he picked up his pace again, and she stopped thinking about her shoes.

Only a few minutes more, and she was deep in her climax. She knew she was being loud—yelling Chibs' name, God's name, and sounds that weren't even words—but she couldn't stop, and she didn't want to. She came and came. While she was still careening at her peak, he came, too, with a long, loud, wrenching grunt. Finally it was over, and he went to his side, pulling her with him and resting his head on hers, holding her tight.

Laura was comfortable, tangled up in Chibs' arms and legs. She felt exhausted and safe and loved, and she fell asleep like that, in her fancy lace and high heels, while he was still inside her.

* * *

**A/N: **Quick shout-out to the Freaks, who helped me work out the idea for Laura's ink. Love you badass womenfolk!

And yes, there is such a thing in nature as a white crow. Added a few pins to the Pinterest board for this story to give a sense of her ink. :)


	23. Chapter 23

**Warning: **Chibs does something neither heroic nor gentlemanly toward the end of this chapter. There was some foreshadowing for it in Chapter 8.

And I'm sorry—another cliffie. The POV shift is necessary, though.

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 23:**

Chibs' prepay went off on the nightstand. He unwound himself from Laura, who stirred and rolled over but didn't wake. Without opening his eyes, he reached out and felt for the annoying piece of shite.

"Yeah."

Jax. "I need you in, bro. We got a 20 on the kitchen. We need a plan."

"Aye. On me way." Chibs closed the phone and opened his eyes. It was barely dawn. Fuck. He looked over at Laura, who was now sleeping almost on her stomach. He leaned over and kissed his mark, that ethereal white crow on her shoulder. Christ, the good it did his heart every time he saw it.

Allowing himself a moment, he stretched out along her body and kissed his crow again, then traced his tongue over the graeful line of her shoulder to her neck. She stirred, waking, and he was glad. While he could simply leave a note and let her sleep, something told him that this was a day he wanted to say goodbye and tell her he loved her before he left and rode into whatever chaos the world held for the Sons.

"Morning, love," he breathed in her ear.

"Mmmm." Taking a deep breath, she rolled beneath him and stretched. He felt her muscles flexing all along his body, and he closed his eyes and fought for strength. Jesus, she was beautiful, and getting out of bed was not on his list of things he wanted to do at the moment.

She blinked her eyes open. "It's not even light out yet," she pouted.

He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. "It is, a little. I have to go. Got a call from Jax. Didn't want to leave without seeing those lovely eyes, though." He kissed her. "When do you work today?"

She hooked her leg over his hip as if she wanted to make it as difficult as possible to escape her. "I'm off today, remember? I was thinking Leenie and I would run some errands. I want to get some flowers and stuff for the yard, and we need to get Hope a birthday present."

They'd moved into their house in Lodi two weeks ago. Most rooms were in dire need of furniture, but Chibs hadn't been able to convince Laura to go out and find what she liked, and they hadn't yet had a real chance to go out together. The thought of all that shopping made Chibs' stomach ache. He'd much rather his old lady go out and spend his money on her own, but that seemed unlikely. She was uncomfortable with the very idea of spending his money. She'd overcome that reluctance for Leenie, but otherwise, the only furniture in their new house was what Chibs had had in his flat.

That she was willing to try to plant some things in the yard was a big step, though Chibs suspected she planned to pay for it with money she'd earned herself. He wanted her out of that ridiculous job, too. His old lady should not be making fucking sandwiches in a fucking strip mall.

"You can be off every day, love. You don't have to work that shite job anymore. I take care of us."

Now her pretty little pout became a scowl. "It's too early to fight, and you know what I'm going to say, so let's just sum up." She put up her hand to count off the points she made every time he brought the subject up. "I do need to work—I _want_ to work—and I don't have work experience I can use to get a better job, not now. I can't use my old job as a reference, so I need to build up a new work history. You already bought me a house and a car. Let me do some stuff on my own, too." She grabbed his beard and gave him a playfully severe look. "If you're trying to make me glad you're leaving, you're doing a pretty good job, pal."

Someday, he was going to track down the bastard son of a bitch who'd gotten her fired. First, he'd thank him, because what he'd done had brought Laura and Eileen into his life. Then he'd dismember him, for putting hands on her and putting his lasses through that ordeal.

In this moment, though, Chibs slid his hand over Laura's hip, across her belly, and into her underwear. When he found her core—wet, she was always wet when he got there—he pushed his fingers into her. She gasped and arched, her expression softening at once and her eyes fluttering closed. He whispered, "Sure you'll be glad to see me go, lass?" And he kissed her.

Fuck it. Church could wait another fifteen minutes. And it was early; he'd make it up on the ride.

-oOo-

Under the cover of night, the Sons snuck up on the new meth kitchen Pep and Juice had tracked down. They'd surveilled the place, and it was clear. The plan was for them to do a quick check and make absolutely sure it was clear, and then for Bobby to blow it.

As the Sons crept forward to the ramshackle building off Highway 12, an old VW microbus tore up the gravel road, music blaring. The van swerved to a stop, kicking up a plume of gravel, and then, after a pause, during which the Sons dove for cover and the kids figured out they had company, the doors flew open, and kids piled out, guns blazing. Big, automatic rifles. M16s. No way they'd gotten that kind of muscle without serious weight behind them.

When the hail of bullets finally ended, Chibs was on the ground, face down. He'd been shot at least twice in the back. He was wearing a vest, but he felt like he was plugged into an electric current, and he didn't seem to be able to move. Still conscious but swimming in pain, he could see Hap was down, too. He felt hands around his ankles, and he moved his head to see Juice dragging him back toward cover. Fuck, that hurt.

"You okay, man?," Juice asked.

"Aye. Just got the shite knocked outta me. I'll be alright." He wasn't actually sure about that.

Tig had Hap and was pulling him back. He brought him to rest near Chibs, who was beginning to find some ability to move his legs. Hap was wearing a vest and didn't seem to be bloodied, but he was out. He looked bad. Tig was shouting, and then Pep ran up and pulled Tig away to kneel at Hap's side.

Chibs knew what was going on, and he needed to get his arse moving, but the nerve pain was bad and he couldn't yet do more than get his shoulders off the ground. Pep and Tig struggled to get Hap's vest off, and then Pep bent down like he was going to kiss Hap.

"No!" Chibs yelled—or tried to yell. Christ, he wasn't sure just then how much good the vest had actually done him. "Don't do that. Don't do any good. The compressions—just the compressions. You know what you're doin'?"

Pep nodded, and Chibs watched, forcing himself onto his elbows, as Pep worked to get Hap's heart going again.

Time stood still for those long seconds, maybe minutes. And then Hap was awake; he knocked Pep away before he fell back, groaning and cussing to make the vicar's ears bleed. Tig barked a crazy, sobbing laugh. Chibs, relieved, dropped back to the ground.

Then there was an explosion. And then there was screaming.

-oOo-

Well past midnight, exhausted, but his body still twanging with the chaos of the night, Chibs approached his new house. He'd called Laura before they'd headed out on the job to tell her that he'd be late and not to wait up, but not to worry, either. He'd kept his voice light and made sure not to give her anything to worry about. He'd been convincing, it seemed, because the windows were dark, and he felt lonely at that. He needed her.

The exterior lights were on, though, and he found some small measure of peace riding up to his own home knowing his family was sleeping safely inside. He pulled into his new garage and parked his bike next to Laura's bright red Chevy Equinox. She'd finally let him buy her a new car when she couldn't get the Taurus started one morning before work. He'd checked it out for her and told her it was dead. He'd deny to his dying day that that had been anything but true.

Once inside the house, he stopped in the kitchen. Laura had left the light on over the sink, and the room had a warm golden glow. He put the Beretta he routinely carried in its pistol safe on a shelf in one of the cabinets. Following Hap's example, he'd seeded the house with loaded weapons, but had each one in its own quick-release safe that opened with his fingerprint. Once he explained how it worked and how there was no way for Eileen to get into it, Laura had approved—though she wouldn't allow a safe in Eileen's room.

The next step was to get Laura to agree to learn to shoot, so that she could defend herself and Eileen when he wasn't there. He knew that would take some time.

His weapon secured, he poured himself a very tall glass of Jameson and got himself some aspirin. Paltry relief was better than none, he supposed. His back ached ferociously where the slugs had hit his vest. He sat on a stool at the counter and drank, trying to settle himself down. He'd showered at the clubhouse, but all the shower could wash away was the blood, the dirt, the soot. It had done nothing for the filth in his head. All of his nerve endings jangled.

Hap had been shot in the chest—not for the first time. He was doing okay, though. Cracked ribs, but the tough old bastard had headed home on his bike. By Chibs' count, that made four times a Kevlar vest had saved Hap's life—and this time, just barely. The impact had stopped his heart.

The real casualties were two. Joey hadn't gotten quite clear enough from the kitchen before Bobby blew it, and his leg was badly burned. And Gordo was dead. A Prospect. He hadn't had a vest—he shouldn't even have been in the middle of that shite. He was supposed to have stayed in the van. But when he'd seen a part of the device Bobby had made to blow the kitchen had been left behind, he grabbed it and ran to help. Unarmed, right into a firefight, without even thinking. He was just a kid.

At that thought, Chibs laughed, harshly, under his breath. Gordo was Laura's age.

And the boys they'd killed. Five of them, not even all the way out of their teens. One very obviously a minor. All part of that fucking meth ring, all obscenely young, all dead by Sons' bullets. The firefight was engaged before the Sons had fully understood how young were the boys shooting at them—though Chibs had no idea how knowing would have changed the outcome. Young as they were, those kids had been shooting very large guns at them.

What the holy Christ was going on? How had shite like this come to Charming?

He couldn't sit. He needed to get away from his head. He drank the glass of whiskey down and paced the room.

The house was quiet, and suddenly Chibs needed to see with his own eyes that his lasses were home and safe. He set his empty glass in the sink and headed down the hall to Eileen's room. Her door was ajar, and he opened it quietly.

She was sleeping, curled into a little ball with her bunny clutched close, her golden hair, just like her mum's, flared out over her pink pillow. In her fairy princess bed, its canopy draped with gossamer yellow fabric sprinkled with tiny pink roses. This room made Chibs almost as happy as it had made Eileen. The canopy bed. The matching dresser and nightstands. The princess lamp glowing on one of them. The little vanity set with an upholstered pink seat. The wee desk and chair. The long, low set of shelves for her books and toys—those she had and those to come. The look of disbelieving awe and perfect glee on her face when she'd first seen it.

Laura had barely protested when he wanted to trick out this room to meet his wee lass's wildest desires, and Chibs knew then that she had realized that they were truly a family, and she needn't worry about Eileen having expectations Laura couldn't meet on her own. Her only reserve now was a concern that Eileen would become spoiled.

Chibs didn't want that, either. But he didn't believe it was possible to spoil Eileen, and he could think of no little girl who deserved a room of her own, filled with things that made her happy, more than his wee pretty. He leaned his head against the door jamb and, for long minutes, watched her sleep, feeling his heart wind into a painful knot of love and fear and guilt.

Suddenly, with a force so bitter and brutal the wind was knocked out of him, it struck him. He had so much to lose. Again.

Shaken to his core, he stepped back and pulled the door to, then headed farther down the hall to the bedroom he shared with Laura.

She was asleep, too, lying on her belly, her hands under her pillow. The room was too dim for Chibs to see the pale crow on her shoulder, but he knew it was there. He closed and locked their door, then stripped completely and slid under the covers with her.

She was deeply asleep and didn't even stir when he lay over her and kissed her shoulder. She smelled delicious—she must have showered, or perhaps bathed, before bed. Their bathroom had a large tub, separate from the shower, and she'd taken a liking to lingering in it after tucking Eileen in for the night. He'd so far resisted the urge to join her; she seemed to enjoy the time alone.

He pressed his face hard against her neck, buried in her hair, tasting and smelling her, and the knot in his heart tightened to think of what his life had been before he'd met her. He felt frayed and unsteady, a need on him that he knew was dangerous. He should have stayed away. He'd told her he'd stay away when he felt like this. But he'd wanted to be home, with his family. As she began to stir, he pushed his hand up under her tank top, between her body and the bed, and clutched at her breast.

She woke. "Ow—hey. Wait. Chibs, no. I started my—Chibs!" She tried to roll beneath him, but he shoved at her shoulder and pushed her back down. There was a buzz in his head and his blood, like locusts. Her body was hot and silky soft beneath him, her muscles flexing against him, against his aching cock. He yanked at her underwear, bringing it down past her knees. He felt the little pad—she must have started her period. He didn't care. He grabbed her knee and dragged it up, opening her.

"Let me, Laura. Let me. I need it."

She fought harder. "Chibs—please. No, I don't—." Whatever she was going to say was lost in a groan as he pushed into her. Consumed by his need, he wasn't listening or even fully aware there was anything to hear. Even the pain in his back was in the distance, like a memory. Sweet Christ, she was so hot, even hotter than usual. His mind went to static as her scalding body enveloped him, and he let go, buried in her, fucking her wildly, clutching her, barely aware of her rigid tension. His only awareness was the intensity of his need and the completeness with which her body met it.

He came quickly and painfully, his back seizing, the buzzing in his head and body deafening, and then he relaxed on her. As the haze receded, he realized what he'd done. "Oh, love. Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry." She lay still, her body like iron under his. He kissed the crow on her shoulder. "Laura. Talk to me, love."

Instead, she dragged herself out from under him. He pulled out and didn't try to stop her. She stood and pulled her panties up—gingerly. Without speaking or even turning to look at him, she went into the bathroom.

What the fuck had he done? Forced himself on her is what he'd done. What's more, he'd hurt her. They'd been together long enough that he understood her cycle, and he knew that her first day was hard. She was sore, and he'd made her hurt more.

He sat up, wincing as his back protested, and checked to see if, on top of everything else, he'd made a mess. He hadn't; what there was was on him, and he grabbed tissues from the box on her nightstand. He stood, cleaned himself up, grabbed his boxers out of his jeans and yanked them on, and went to the bathroom door.

"Laura, are you alright? I'm so sorry, love. So sorry. Please come out."

She didn't respond. Chibs stood there, his palms and forehead on the door, and waited, his mind reeling. Finally, she opened the door, but still she didn't speak. She'd been crying. Of course she had. Needing to soothe the pain he'd made, he tried to take her in his arms, but she pushed him away and headed out of the room. She closed the door between them. He almost went after her, but she'd made it clear that she didn't want him near, and he couldn't fucking blame her, could he?

He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to come back, but she didn't. He sat there, racked with guilt, trying to understand how he could make it right. After almost an hour, he got up, pulled on a beater, and went looking, at least to make sure he hadn't hurt her badly.

He found her in Eileen's room, apparently asleep, curled around their girl. He leaned against the jamb and watched them for a long time, feeling wretched. Finally, he went into the sparsely furnished living room and lay down on the couch. He couldn't sleep in their bed without her, not after what he'd done.

-oOo-

He didn't sleep. When the sun rose, he got off the couch and started breakfast—brewing coffee, scrambling eggs, frying bacon, browning toast. He didn't know what else to do.

Eileen was up first, wandering to the bathroom across from her room and then down to the kitchen. Her hair tangled from sleep and her bunny hooked over her elbow, she came up to him and leaned against his leg, as was her morning custom.

He put his hand on her head. "Morning, pretty. Better step back from the stove, yeah?"

She stepped back. "Mommy's in my room she slept with me like before."

"Did she now? Was that a nice treat?"

Eileen yawned and nodded, then went to sit at the table. Chibs made her a plate and a glass of milk. He wanted to wait and eat with Laura.

It was a while before she came to the kitchen, and when she did, she was dressed for work. She must have gone back to the bedroom first. She passed by him and sat at the table next to Eileen.

"Morning, bug. You're a good cuddler, you know that?"

Eileen, just finishing her breakfast, grinned. "Yeah! So are you Mommy. But remember you said that should only be for special because now you and Chibs have a bed and I have a bed."

"That's right. Looks like you're done with breakfast. Why don't you get ready, and this morning I'll clear your dishes." Laura stood and took her plate.

"Thanks Mommy!" And Eileen was down the hall.

As soon as Chibs heard the bathroom door close, he turned to Laura, who was trying to get by him with Eileen's breakfast dishes. He put his hand around her arm and she jerked it away, nearly dropping the plate.

"Laura, please. Love, I don't have words for how sorry I am."

She didn't even look at him; she just shook her head. "I have to finish getting ready for work." She set Eileen's dishes on the counter. Then she, too, was down the hall, and Chibs was alone.

Christ, what a fucking mess he'd made.

He followed her. There was no way he could let her leave until he'd made her forgive him. She was sitting on their bed, putting her sneakers on. He sat down next to her, and she immediately moved to get up, but her grabbed her arm and held her where she was.

"Laura. Stop running away. We need to talk."

"I'm not running. I'm going to be late for work." She tried to shake him off, but he held on.

"Fuck the bloody job! We need to talk—you need to hear me!"

The arm he grasped was stiff with her resistance. "Don't shout at me. Get your fucking hand off me and let me take my daughter and go. Or do you plan to rape me again?"

Fuck! He didn't know where to start. He tightened his grip on her reflexively as he tried to make sense of everything she'd just said. Rape? She thought he'd _raped_ her? Jesus Christ. And take her daughter and go? Go where? What the bloody hell?!

He took a breath and went for the most pressing point first. "Go where? Where are you going? Where are you taking her? Laura, fuck! Tell me what's going on in your head!"

She fought harder against his hold, but he couldn't let go. He couldn't let her go. "You are hurting me. Again."

He forced his fingers to ease up slightly but he still held on. "I'm sorry. You're scaring the fuck out of me, lass. I can't let you go until you talk to me. Laura, please. I don't know how to fix this."

"I don't have time. I need to go. And I need to think before I can talk to you."

He knew how her head worked. She didn't look far past the moment she was in. Even when she tried, she didn't. She was scared and angry, and she was just as likely to think herself away from him as anything. He couldn't give her time to think first. They had to work it out together. "No, love. We need to work it out. I can't lose sight of you until we work it out. I'll lose me fucking mind."

She stared at him for several long, agonizing seconds. Then she sighed and said, "Fine. I'll call in. But we can't talk with Leenie here. I'll take her to Neeta's and come back."

He felt some relief, but it wasn't enough. He couldn't let the two of them go off anywhere on their own, not with Laura thinking he'd _raped_ her. "We'll take her together."

"God, Chibs. You're making me feel like your hostage."

"I'm sorry, love. For so much. But I need you close. It's too much to lose. I…can't."

Eileen knocked on their door. "Mommy it's 8-0-8. That's after 8-0-0. We go to Miss Neeta's at 8-0-0."

Laura shook her head. "Okay, bug. I'm coming." With barely a glance at him, she yanked her arm again, and this time he let her go. Jesus. He didn't know what he was doing or what he would do if she bolted, but he couldn't force her.

She stood and looked over her shoulder at him. "I'll be back after I drop her off."

Despairing, he nodded and let her go.


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 24:**

Part of Laura wanted to take Leenie and go far away. Chibs wanted to talk, but she had no idea how to talk about what he'd done or how it had made her feel. She'd trusted him. She'd trusted him with everything, with her daughter. He'd told her he would never hurt them. He'd told her he'd keep that part of himself away from her. He wanted to talk, but she didn't know what he could say that would make what he did go away. She wanted to take Leenie and go.

But she couldn't. She had even less now than she had when they'd lost so much. She didn't even have a car anymore. She had this red thing, which Chibs had bought her. She couldn't—wouldn't—take it with her.

What, then? A bus? To where? Chibs had never accepted repayment for the money he'd spent to help her, and he wouldn't let her use the money she made to pay any bills for the new house, so she had some money saved. She'd opened a special account to save the money to repay him, and she would never use that for herself, but she had almost a thousand dollars of earnings that she could use. But how far would a grand go without even a car to sleep in?

And Leenie! She loved him so much. She was bound to him, too, maybe even more tightly than Laura herself was, and she would never understand. All the years before, it had just been the two of them, Laura and her girl. That was no longer true. She'd let this man into their family, and she'd given up her independence and her daughter's heart to do it. Her own heart, too.

"Mommy I want to see Hayley and Miss Neeta. Can we go inside now?"

Laura started and refocused. She had no idea how long she'd been sitting outside Neeta's house, staring at the steering wheel. With a quick look at the console clock, she knew she'd lost several minutes. Leenie had been patient. She was such a good girl.

"Sorry, ladybug. Here I come."

-oOo-

Her stomach was in knots when she went back into the house. Chibs was in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar. He stood as soon as she came in. He took a step toward her, his hands coming up as if he intended to hug her, but she stepped back and skirted him. The thought of his touch sickened her. What he'd done, how it had hurt, how he hadn't cared—her stomach boiled at the memory. Her cramps and soreness were bad today, anyway, offering a constant reminder of what he'd done. At her reaction, he stopped and let his hands fall to his sides.

"Thank you for coming back, love. Wasn't sure you would."

"Neither was I." She crossed her arms over her chest, her hands gripping her upper arms. Even though she'd come back on her own power, she felt cornered.

"Will you talk with me?" His voice was gentle and low, like he was trying to soothe a skittish animal. It pissed her off.

"That's why I called in to work. I have no idea what to say, or what you could say, but that's why I'm here."

"Sit with me on the couch, then?"

"No. Here, at the table." She went to a chair but did not sit. When he pulled out the chair next to her, she moved so that she would be across from him, the table between them. He dropped his head, understanding what she'd done, but he didn't try to move closer. He sat, and then she sat.

He cleared his throat. "I don't know what happened last night, Laura—"

She cut him off, because that was crap. "I'll refresh your memory. You raped me."

"No! Christ, love—no! Stop saying that!"

"You stuck your dick in me when I didn't want you to. If there's a word for that besides rape, I don't know it."

He started to get up from his chair, and she pushed hers back, ready to go if he tried to get close. Seeing that, he sat back down. "I didn't—I couldn't! I love you!"

He'd managed to shock her. Was he really that much of a pig? "Are you saying that it wasn't rape because you love me? Does that mean you think you're _entitled_ because we're together? That's fucked up. How does that make me different from those girls at the clubhouse, then? The Crow-lovers or whatever?"

His hands wound into fists on the table, and Laura felt a different kind of fear. Looking down at the table, his voice taking on an eerie steadiness that alarmed her, he said, "You are twisting everything up. You're not listening. I need you to listen. I need to explain."

"First you call it what it was. Then I'll lis—" His prepay went off. God, she hated that stupid thing. If he answered it—if he left her in the middle of this and went off to the damn Sons—she was leaving. She'd take Leenie and go as far as that grand would get them, and she'd figure it out from there.

He was staring at it in his hand, his thumb poised to open it. It rang, and he stared at it. She knew he'd answer it. Always have to answer the prepay, he'd told her, and he always did. It had taken him away from her in the middle of meals, sleep, fights, sex, days out with Leenie. He dropped everything when the stupid thing rang.

He was going to leave her in the middle of this. And when he did, she would go.

He pushed a button on the side of the phone and silenced the ring. Then he set it aside. She didn't miss the painfully conflicted look on his face as he did so, but he did it. In this moment, at least, he chose her over the club.

"Will you listen now?" Still his voice had that flatness that told of a pitched battle for calm. She nodded. He hadn't answered that stupid phone. So she would listen.

The phone alerted a voice mail. Chibs twitched at the sound but ignored it. "You say I raped you. You want me to say it, too. It turns me stomach, but alright. I'm dead sorry, love. Christ, I never want to harm you. I know I did. I know you were sore and I made it worse. I know I scared you. I don't know how to say I'm sorry. I've no excuse. But I need to tell you about last night."

He did. He'd never told her about much of anything that he did when he was out with the Sons, and she had learned never to ask. But he told her now about a night of chaos—of guns and fire and death. Five teenage boys. Gordo—she knew him; he was nice, a little goofy. Happy getting shot. _Chibs_ getting shot. Viv had told her about Happy being shot more than once and about her reaction the first time it happened. Laura now understood, as she ran to the kitchen sink and puked bile from her empty stomach.

Chibs came up behind her and held her, helping hold her hair back. She tensed and wished him away but was too busy dry-heaving to resist his touch more than that. When she was done, she rinsed her mouth out and stood up. His arms came around her waist, and she felt his lips against the side of her head. She made herself stand calmly and didn't fight him.

"I don't know how to explain what happens in me after a night like that. It's as though me head fills with static. Last night was worse than ever, because—that's hard to explain, too. But it was. I feel like there's something else at the controls. I hate it. I've always fucked the feeling away. I don't know another way to get rid of it."

"You stopped before. When I didn't want it. You said you'd stay away when you were like that." She turned her head so she could see him.

He looked down at her, his eyes sad. "Aye. I'm sorry. But Laura, I don't want to be away from you. I don't want to be at the clubhouse feeling like that. Do you understand?"

Sorting out the meaning behind his words, feeling sick again, she pulled free of his hold and turned around. "Are you asking me to let you hurt me so you don't cheat on me?"

Raking his hands through his hair, he made a sound like a growl. "No—Jesus! You have to stop twisting it all up!" Laura took a step away from his anger. She was wedged in the corner of the counter—truly cornered, now. He stopped and took a breath; when he started again, he was calmer. "I'm asking you to help me. I'm just a man, Laura. I was alone a long time. I fuck up. But this"—he reached out and grabbed her right shoulder before she could flinch away, wrapping his hand around the crow that lay just under her t-shirt—"and this"—he turned his right forearm up to show her name—"mean we don't give up. You are mine. I'm yours. We work it out. Whatever it is. You wanted a commitment. You have it. I need one, too. I'm more sorry for what I did than I can say. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I never want to do it again. But I _will_ fuck up, love. So will you. We work it out."

Still holding her shoulder—not hard, but firmly—he stared at her. She stared back, trying to sort through the sand in her head. How did they work this out? Could she trust him? Was it right—did he deserve it? She thought about what he'd told her, how he'd been shot last night, about the death and fire and pain, and her stomach rolled again. She swallowed and willed it to settle. She had nothing left in her stomach to lose.

She thought of the way Viv and Frank had described the Sons to her—drunk, violent, wild men. Chibs was a Son. She thought of the questions Viv and Frank had told her to ask herself: _Do you love him enough? Is the good worth the bad?_ Well, did she? Was it? Here was some bad. Really bad. Was it bad enough to change how she felt?

She thought of the man she loved and the life they had that was good. The worlds were so different; the man who'd been part of that horror, who'd killed teenagers last night, who could have been killed himself, couldn't possibly be the same man who the night before that had been lying in her little girl's frilly new canopy bed, reading fairy tales and talking to Mr. Snuffles. The man who had inked both their names into his body to show his love and commitment.

But he _was_ the same man. The same man who'd made gentle love to her yesterday morning and then raped her last night.

_Do you love him enough? Is the good worth the bad?_

She had thought so. She still thought so. But…

"It really hurt. What you did—it hurt so bad." She meant in her heart and in her body.

His expression miserable, he put his hand on her face. "Ah, love. I know. I wish I could do something to take it away. I don't know how to make it better. I don't know how to get you to forgive me except to ask."

She took his hand away. "You say we work it out, whatever it is. That can't be permission for you to do stuff like that. I can't let you treat me like that. I won't. I won't let Leenie grow up thinking that's okay. It's not okay. I'm sorry about the static or whatever, but you can't be like that with me. If I say no, you have to stop. And you can't cheat. I don't care what's marked on me. You don't get to hit me, or force yourself on me, or cheat on me. Those things we don't work out. Even if I could deal with it—and I can't—I won't let Leenie grow up with that kind of woman for a role model. It can't happen again."

He nodded. "I never want to hurt you. You believe that, yeah?"

She took a beat, then nodded.

"Am I forgiven, then?" He took her hand; she let him have it.

With a silent prayer that she was making the right decision, offered to a God who never seemed to notice her, Laura nodded again, and let Chibs pull her into his arms.

-oOo-

Chibs told Laura that Gordo had a big family. The Sons were quite expressly not invited to his funeral. Apparently, his grandfather, an old, hunched man with a four-footed cane, drove into the lot, tottered himself right up to Bobby and Jax, who were standing outside the clubhouse, and threatened all sorts of fire and tarnation if even one Harley showed up to send his eldest grandson, Gordon, named for him, off to God.

The Sons respected his wishes, of course. So they had their own send-off for the Prospect on Friday night. Neeta offered to babysit all the club kids—of which Leenie was now one—so Laura went with Chibs, after asking Neeta to keep a sharp eye on Abel. Chibs kept her close all night, except during Church, when she helped out in the kitchen with Frank, Viv, and Tara. Viv made a special point to see how she was holding up. Laura told her she was doing okay, fairly sure she was telling the truth.

Gemma was there, too, seeming, as usual, to be in charge. They ignored each other.

It looked a lot like the party she'd been to. There were a few Sons not from Charming. There were some toasts, and the evening started out on the quiet side. But by the time Chibs leaned down and murmured in her ear that they should go, pick up their girl, and head home, it was the same drunken riot she remembered from before.

Chibs had been extra calm and gentle with her in the days since their talk. She found that she did still trust him. She wasn't sure how she'd keep him from hurting her if—when—he got that way again. But she had stopped him once, and she did trust that he didn't want to hurt her. She wasn't sure what she'd done differently that first time, though. Except that she'd been awake and facing him. Sadly, she didn't have much control over that.

Her other option was to recognize what was happening when he came at her like that and let it happen. Give him what he needed. In some ways, that seemed like the best choice, but it scared her. She didn't know if she could do it, and she didn't know if it was right to let him. He was rough sometimes, usually after they fought, and she liked it a lot, when she knew it was coming. If she could think about it like that, maybe.

That night, when they got home, they sat with Leenie and played games. Then, before her bath and bedtime, Leenie helped Laura wrap Hope's present for her third birthday party. A memorial on Friday and a little girl's birthday party on Saturday. This weekend with the Sons was bizarre.

When they went to bed, Chibs pulled Laura against his chest and kissed her goodnight. Her period had ended. She hadn't said anything; she wondered if he knew. Either way, he had not tried to make love since, and neither had she. They slept that night as spoons.

-oOo-

She woke early, still wrapped in his arms. His right arm was crossed over her chest, his hand over her shoulder, and the first thing she saw in the dawning light was her name. Realizing that she felt safe and warm again with him, she leaned into his hold and kissed her mark on his arm. He stirred a little in his sleep and took a deep breath. When he let it out, the air tickled her neck. She squirmed and felt him grow hard in his boxers, against her ass.

She wanted him. She wanted him to be gentle. Shimmying out of her underwear, she turned over in his arms so that she was facing him. Her movements must have roused him, because when she turned, his eyes were open and on her.

"Morning, love."

"Morning." She reached into his boxers and wrapped her hand around him. At his sharp intake of breath, she asked, "This okay?"

He smiled. "Always. You're sure?"

"Yeah. I want to go slow, though. Be sweet."

Feeding his hand into her hair, he leaned in and kissed her, softly, his tongue running lightly over her lips before pushing for entry into her mouth. She opened and let him in, focusing on the feel of his tongue on hers, his lips on hers, his beard against the smooth skin of her cheeks and chin. For long, sweet moments, he only kissed her, his hand holding her head. When he pulled away, she was breathless. "Turn around, love," he murmured.

Worried that that position was too close, too soon, she opened her eyes. He smiled. "S'alright. Trust me."

She turned around. His bottom hand cupped her breast gently; his top caressed her side and hip before sliding over her belly and pushing easily between her legs. She gasped as his calloused fingers brushed over her clit and into her folds.

"Ah, love, you're always so wet. I love the way me fingers slide against that sweet, wet button."

So did she. She whimpered quietly, and the hand on her breast began to move, caressing her, tracing slow circles around her nipple.

He kept talking, his voice a low rumble against her head. "Your tits are so fucking lovely, Laura. I love the way they overflow me hand. I love your rosy nipples and the way they get so hard and tight at me touch. I love to feel you bend back against me when I squeeze like this." He brought his thumb and forefinger together on her nipple, and she gasped and arched, just as he'd said. Oh, God, she needed him inside her. She felt hot and swollen with the need.

"Please, Chibs. Oh, please."

"You want more, love?" He pushed his fingers inside her as he asked. She wanted more than that, but his mouth was on her ear, his hand at her breast, his fingers inside her, and all she could do was moan.

"You feel so good here deep inside." He pushed deeper. "Firm and wet, like the meat of a plum. I love to feel you around me fingers almost as much as I love to feel you around me cock." He pistoned his fingers into her.

God. It all felt so good, but she was hovering at the precipice. She needed more. She needed all of him. "Chibs. Please. Please, please, please."

"You want it, love? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything you want. You're everything to me. I'll give you everything. All of me."

She gasped as he voiced her thoughts. "Yes, God, yes. I need you. I need all of you."

His hand pulled out of her and wrapped around her thigh, pulling her leg up. Then she felt his erection pushing against her. She flexed, pushing back on him, bringing him into her. Groaning, he went the rest of the way, filling her completely.

"I take it back," he groaned softly, "Nothing feels near good as this." She clenched her muscles around him. "Ah, Christ. Ah, that's good. I love you, Laura. Me sweet lass. More than anything. More than anyone. Ever." He moved, sliding slowly into her and back out, talking all the while, telling her how much he loved her, how much he loved her body, how good it felt to be inside her, how happy she made him, how he treasured her.

He stayed steady, slow, and sweet, even when she bowed her head in concentration, trying to catch a climax that stayed tantalizingly out of reach, even when she could feel his whole body shaking with the effort.

"God, Chibs. Oh, God, please. I need…I need…"

"What do you need, love? It's yours for the asking." His accent was thicker than ever, his voice deep, soft and sumptuous, like suede against her ear.

"Harder. I need it harder. Please."

"Aye. Oh, aye." He stopped talking. Moving his hand from her leg back to her clit, he rubbed her hard as he sped up, each thrust faster and harder than the one before. When she came, she felt like she was exploding. Sparkling lights filled her eyes, and she bit into her pillow so it would take her scream.

"Fuck, love, the way you come. Ah, fuck." He thrust deeply one last time and held, his body pulsing fitfully, as he came. As he loved her orgasm, she loved his—the feel of him losing control of himself, his need of her taking him over.

Which wasn't, she supposed, all that different from what he'd described happening the other night. Knowing his explanation, knowing, at least in part, the trauma from which it came, could she change the way she thought about it? Could she let him have what he said he needed?

She didn't know. She hoped so.


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 25:**

His forehead on Laura's shoulder, still trying to get control of his breath and body, Chibs could have wept with relief. For the first time in days, she was fully at ease with him again. The slight tensing—not quite a flinch, more like an intake of breath—every time he touched her had been making him mental. But now, he held her breathless, pliant body in his arms. She'd come to him, initiated the mind-blowing fuck they'd just shared. That more than anything told him they'd gotten through it. Again, he'd regained her trust, a trust she'd given him so readily at first but which had become skittish over time.

Now he needed to make sure he held onto that trust. He knew that would take both of them—him finding more control, keeping the dark shite away from her as much as he could, and her giving him some fucking room for error. She needed to settle in. He wasn't sure what more he could do to help her, except be steady for her. He loved a woman who was not of his world, and he knew the adjustment was difficult. But she had to move away from the door.

Earlier in the week, for the first time in all the years he'd worn a kutte, he'd ignored a club call. He'd known that he could not answer that phone and also keep Laura, not considering the weight of their discussion. Jax had been calling him in for an officer's meeting to debrief after the night before—important, but not as pressing as the immediate crisis he and Laura had been in the thick of. He'd been lucky and had made the right choice. He could not make a habit of ignoring that phone, however. She had not fought it any time before, so he felt fair sure she understood that. She didn't like it, he knew, but that, at least, she understood.

He knew his old lady would never be someone who felt at home in the clubhouse. He wasn't sure she'd ever feel comfortable in the Sons family at all. He knew he could talk to her, though, confide in her, and that was good. Aside from being sick at the news of him getting shot, she had taken his description of that night fairly well, even in the wake of their own turmoil offering him support and comfort and no more judgment than he himself was feeling about the death of those boys. She accepted it. But he doubted she would ever more than tolerate SAMCRO.

That was alright. It certainly wasn't a surprise; everything about Laura spoke of a personality and experience at far remove from the world of the Sons. In truth, he thought he loved her all the more for it. A woman who was comfortable with his family made many things easier, but he'd learned that there was also a comfort in knowing that when he was home, the club was at a distance. It had been a very long time since his life had been anything more than the Sons.

He'd once told her that he couldn't live two lives. Now, he thought he could. He thought he might prefer it. He thought it might be a fuller, richer life, more balanced. So long as she would let him have both. If she ever made him choose, he didn't know how he'd get through that. He couldn't turn his back on the Sons. He wouldn't. But he couldn't lose Laura and Eileen, either. He'd already lost one family—truly lost, it seemed. Kerrianne had never called him again after Christmas. She'd not returned any of his many calls. She had made her choice. It broke his heart, but he would no longer beg to be her father. He'd be there if she came back, but he would no longer chase her down.

To lose Eileen, too? To lose Laura? He couldn't think of it. He wouldn't allow it. He would keep her trust. He would help her settle. He would have both halves of his life and be whole.

Laura fidgeted in his arms, trying to turn, and he pulled out of her with a groan. She rolled to her back and smiled up at him.

He stared down into those beautiful, dark blue eyes, looking up at him with warmth and light. He wanted to kiss her, love her, be light and sweet with her. But the week had taken a toll on him, and he found himself needing something else. "Do you love me, Laura?"

Her smile faltered a little, and her brow wrinkled, but her expression remained unguarded. "I do. You know I do."

He nodded and brushed her nose with his. "Do you trust me?"

"I do, yes." Now the smile faded from her face.

"Truly? Think on it before you answer, love." There was great risk in pursuing this topic—but, then, that was rather the point.

Laura pushed at his chest; as he lifted away from her, she scooted to sit against the headboard. "I do, yes. Chibs, what?" Now she was frowning, and that accursed careful, guarded aspect had moved back into her eyes. He needed her to settle. Why wouldn't she settle? What was she waiting for? What more could he do?

"I want to talk more about what happened. What I did." He hadn't known they'd end up here when he'd asked the first question, but now he knew it made sense. He could make a space for Laura and Eileen that was separate from the club, and in that way, he could live two lives. But he was just one man. He needed to know she wouldn't run when he couldn't leave his Sons life outside their door. He needed to know she was as committed to him as he was to her.

"No. No. That's behind us, right? I don't want to think about that anymore." She started to try to get off the bed, but he held her where she was. No. More. Running.

"Why not? What are you afraid of?"

She looked down at his hand holding her arm. "Please don't. Don't ruin this morning. It started off so good. I…just…please."

Chibs pressed on, not sure why, but sure that this conversation was critically important. "But you forgave me, yeah?"

"I told you. Yes. Why are you doing this?"

He could feel her pulling against his hold, still trying to skitter away from him. He knew she only wanted to end the conversation, but even running that far, only across the house, only across the room, was part and parcel of the same exhausting problem. She was afraid. That needed to end.

"I need something from you, Laura. I love you more than I've loved anyone. I want to spend the rest of our lives together. But I'm worn to a nub. I need to know you're not going anywhere—that you want this life as much as I do."

Suddenly, her arm relaxed, and she was calm. She turned serious eyes to his and put her free hand on his face, tracing his scarred cheek with her soft fingers. "I want you. I want to be with you. I want the family we are together. I love you. God, I love you so much I don't even know how to think about it. But I don't want to think about what happened." She took a long breath that shook when she released it. "It's too big for my head."

Something—maybe it was that tremble in her breath—told him he'd pushed that point as far as he could. He'd broken her trust, and though it was healing, it was still a fresh break. Too fresh. So he tried a different approach. "Why do you love me?"

Her eyes widened and then narrowed with surprise. "What?"

"I'm not digging for compliments, lass. I want you to tell me why. I want to know you know." He brushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ear, but she tipped her head away, the gesture sharp with irritation.

"You think I don't?"

"Humor me, then. Please, lass. Give me some ease."

Again, she was surprised. "Are you uneasy with me?"

"Aye, sometimes—though I more think it's the other way around, yeah?"

"No. No! I love you. I want this—what we have. I want it so much it scares me."

"Scares you? Why?" He didn't like that word, which was the crux of the issue. She shouldn't be scared of him, of them.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I really don't. Maybe 'scares' was the wrong word." She shifted to sit up more, leaning toward him, her look intent, like she very much wanted him to understand, even if she herself didn't. "I don't think about it much. That's too big for my head, too. But it's hard to want something so much I feel like I can't lose it."

He certainly understood that.

She took another of those shaky breaths. "You want to talk about what happened? Okay. When…it happened, it scared me more than anything else to think that I didn't have what I thought I had. That's happened to me a lot. The floor is always falling out from under me, and it sucks."

He'd hurt her more than he'd known. "What did you think you didn't have?"

"Love. Security. Respect." She had that answer at the ready. That was something she _had_ thought about, clearly.

But it hurt him that she didn't think she had those things with him. It wasn't true. "From me? You have all of those things, Laura."

"I know. It didn't feel like it then. It felt like you didn't care at all. I understand what you said about how you get and what you need. I do. Now. It still scares me, but I understand. But God, Chibs. There's so much I have to learn to deal with, so much that's different from anything I've ever known. All the time. Everything about our life feels new to me. All the time. It's exhausting. I'm…what you said, worn to a nub, too. Sometimes it feels like I'm auditioning for the role of your old lady. What happens if I can't get that right?"

It had never occurred to Chibs that she might be worried she'd fail him. "Oh, Laura. Love. If you love me, if you trust me, if you stay with me, you can't get it wrong. I promise. You've got the part. I think it was written for you." She smiled, and he picked up her hand and kissed it. "Tell me why you love me, lass. Please."

Laura's smile expanded at that, and he saw a lovely ease in that upturned sweep of her lips. "I love you because you're kind and patient, and because you're so good and loving to Leenie, and me. I love the way you helped us and let us into your home without hardly a second thought. …You're strong and fierce. …You're funny. … I love the way you can be quiet. I love that you take care of people, and that everybody says that about you. … I love that you don't feel less manly when you're sitting on a pink chair talking to a stuffed bunny. … I love that you make me feel protected and desired and loved. … And you're totally sexy and handsome. I love the way your body feels and the way you make my body feel. … I love that you wear Leenie's name over your heart. Every time I see it, even more than my name, it's like a love letter you wrote to us. On your body." She blushed a little; he hadn't seen her blush in some time. "I'm sure there's more, but that's my list to start."

He leaned in and kissed her, lightly at first, but when he felt her open to him, he took her face in his hands and made it count. When he broke away and opened his eyes, she looked back at him, her mouth rosy and wet, her eyelids at half-mast. He brought his head close, his mouth against her ear, and whispered, "D'you know that's the first time you've ever told me why?"

She flinched and turned her head to meet his eyes. He nodded. "It's true. You do know why I love you, don't you?" He had told her more than once. Hell, he'd told her this morning, as he moved inside her.

Again, she brought her hand to his cheek. "I do. I'm sorry you didn't know. I guess I'm not very good at the love thing. But I really do love you."

Chibs rolled and brought Laura down to lie under him on the bed. "I really do love you, lass. You're good at the love thing. We need to work on the talking thing, though, yeah?"

She nodded, and he kissed her. Enough talking for now.

-oOo-

Chibs stood in Hap's back yard with most of the other Sons. They were off in a corner, talking about the last week. Chibs was listening to Bobby and Jax arguing, but he was watching Laura and Eileen. The other women weren't around—in the kitchen, he assumed; that's where the women always were—but Laura was sticking pretty close to Eileen, standing on the patio, a glass of what he assumed was sweet tea in her hand, looking out over the yard. Not hovering, but watching. Even five months after Thanksgiving, she couldn't relax when her girl was around Abel. And honestly, Abel was turning into a right little arsehole.

Now, Eileen was sitting at a little plastic picnic table, playing Legos with Thomas. They were very close in age, Thomas only a year older, and Chibs wondered if they might become friends. Hope was sitting near them on the ground, grabbing handfuls of grass and raining it down on her dog's head. Tigger was lying there letting it happen—that big beast was an absolute sap when it came to Hope.

Abel was off by himself at the back of the yard. Chibs couldn't really tell what he was doing. Maybe nothing, just aimlessly pacing the yard, but Laura had her eye on him. Chibs watched as Abel turned to look at the other kids playing and then headed toward them. Laura, who had been leaning on one of the support beams holding up the patio roof, stood straight. Tigger raised his head and focused on Abel, too. When the kid got close enough to Hope, Tigger stood. Chibs didn't think he did more than that, but Abel stopped, stared at the dog, and then turned around and went off by himself again.

Tigger lay back down, and Laura relaxed. Viv came out of the house then, checked on Hope, and then asked Laura something. Laura shook her head, smiling shyly, and Viv went back inside.

Chibs tried to make sense of what he was seeing. He knew Laura liked Viv and Frank. He'd harbored a faint hope that this day—a little girl's birthday party, with only Sons and their families present—would be the day that Laura might find some ease with the Sons as a group, but she was too nervous for Eileen, and it was holding her aloof. He considered going over and telling her that Tigger clearly had the situation under control, but then Bobby raised his voice, and he was pulled back into the argument.

"Jax, we gotta think hard about stirring this shit up. Juice, what you found—this is real muscle. This could go all the way south of the border. We could be talking about sticking our bare asses right in the middle of another damn cartel war. We gotta remember what we went through last time and make a smart choice now." Bobby finished his speech looking meaningfully right at Hap, who glared back at him. It was the wrong call to try to get Hap on his side by bringing up, even tacitly, what the Lobos Sonora cartel had done to his family. Bobby should know better than that.

Jax sighed and crossed his arms. "We got Charming kids being pulled into this shit, Bobby. Kids barely old enough to drive using meth. _Cooking_ meth. Shooting at us with fucking M16s. Getting killed by us. Fuck, only ID that little guy had on him was his Charming High ID. Tenth fucking grade. You saying we back down and let it happen because you don't have the stomach for a fight?"

"There's a difference between having the stomach for a fight and knowing you ain't got a ice cube's chance of winning." Bobby stepped into the loose circle they'd formed, going nearly chest to chest with Jax. He was the oldest Son and the most thoughtful, but he was by no stretch a pussy.

Tig spoke up. "Nah, Bob. There's not. Fight's a fight. This one's a good one. Worth fighting." Tig had calmed down substantially since Christmas. Getting a bunch of his brothers locked up, and then taking beatings from each of them afterward, seemed to have knocked his loose screws back into place. He was subdued now, his emotional pendulum swinging the other direction, past his normal zone and into a calmness that was a nice change but almost odder than the crazy they'd been dealing with. He'd been through more than his share of shite, too.

Now Chibs had something to say. "What I know is we killed a fifteen-year-old boy last week. None of 'em was even twenty. They killed Gordo. Almost killed Hap. We can't let meth in Charming. We've kept that door closed all these years. We've held that border. The fight is here, whether we want it or not. Way it looks to me, we're either fighting the boys or we're fighting the men they work for. I prefer to fight the men. I'm done killing kids."

Bobby shook his head sadly. "If this is cartel-backed shit, only way we have a shot is to get back in with the Galindos."

Tigger barked, twice. Hap looked over. So did Chibs. The dog was staring at Hap, but everything seemed normal. They went back to the conversation. Hap still hadn't thrown his two cents in, but he usually sat back and offered little unless asked—or unless he was pissed.

Jax answered Bobby's comment. "Maybe. I'll talk to Romeo. Maybe we can work it where the Galindos see us exposing JoJo's treason as a favor we can trade on, even with all the bullshit that went on." He looked at Tig, who didn't react. "Hell, maybe they're into crystal, too, and they'll want to help hurt the competition. Maybe—"

Hope was pulling on her father's leg. Hap looked down, and she raised her arms. "Hey, midget. What's up?" He picked her up and settled her on his hip. He flinched and set her away, dangling her in front of him, his hands under her arms. His grey t-shirt was wet now at his waist and hip.

"I go potty, Daddy."

"Uh, yeah, midge. I can tell. You're supposed to say something _before_ you go, remember?" The Sons erupted in laughter, and Hope turned a black scowl on them. She was very much her father's daughter.

"You too far. I go potty."

Tigger was nearby, sitting on his haunches, giving Hap a look. Chibs realized that the barking a few minutes earlier was probably about this. He was impressed. Good dog.

"Yeah. Okay, where's Mommy?" Hap looked past Hope, but the women, all but Laura, were in the house.

She shook her head emphatically, her black curls bouncing. "I want you, Daddy."

Hap sighed and turned to his brothers. "We need to quit talking about this sh—stuff around my kid." He looked back at Hope. "Okay, midge. Let's you and me get changed." After a brief moment of hesitation—the man had been up to his armpits in viscera of every description, but apparently his little girl's wet bottom gave him pause—he settled her on his hip and held her close. She laid her head on his shoulder and patted his chest.

As he headed into the house, Tig called out, "Go get 'em, Killa!" The Sons laughed again. Without turning or breaking stride, Hap stretched his arm back toward his brothers and raised his middle finger.

-oOo-

That night, Chibs put Eileen to bed. He sat next to her on her bed, propped on her pink pillows. She read a picture book to him—she was becoming a good reader. He amused himself by asking the kinds of questions and making the kinds of comments that she always made when she was read to. She tolerated his interruptions for a long time, and then finally she set the book on her lap with a huff and a serious look and said, "The story will tell you, Chibs. You have to be patient and let me read."

He grinned and kissed her head. "Ah. Sorry, pretty. Carry on. I'll be good."

When the story was over, he tucked her in and knelt at the side of her bed, leaning on his elbows. "Did you have fun today, lass?"

She nodded and shifted her bunny to her other arm. "Uh-huh. Thomas is nice and we builded—_built_—a city with Legos. Hope got lots of presents and she liked the ocean books I gave her. There was ice cream cake and fruit punch and hot dogs. There was coldslaw too but I didn't like that very much. And Mommy made my hair pretty and I got to wear my new dress with the ballerina shoes on it. When I grow up I want to be a ballerina and wear shoes with ribbons. Oh, and I want to take care of the seals and sea lions. They aren't the same kind of animal you know. And the elephants. And the bears. Oh, and I want to go to work at a pet store so I can play with all the animals. Oh, and I want to be a teacher so I can write with chalk. Oh, and I want to ride a big motorcycle like yours."

Chibs laughed. "You have very big plans, me pretty."

"Yeah I want to do EVERYTHING!" She spread her arms wide, her eyes clear and blue and guileless. He wanted to see her do everything. He wanted to be there to help her however he could. He would be there.

He took her hand, her wee fingernails sparkling with glittery polish, and kissed it. "I love you so much, Eileen. You are me fairy princess."

She giggled. "You're silly. Fairy princesses are only in stories."

Smiling, he got off his knees and bent down to kiss her forehead. "Goodnight, pretty. Sleep well."

Before he could pull away, her arms came around his neck. "I'm glad I have you instead of a daddy. You're better than a daddy."

He lifted her up a bit from the bed and hugged her back, trying to remember not to hold her so tightly he hurt her.

-oOo-

He found Laura soaking in their bathtub, the room glowing with the gold of lit candles clustered in a corner. Her hair was wound messily at the top of her head. There were no bubbles in the water, and he could see her whole, slight form stretched out in the tub, her luscious tits floating at the surface, her toes, with the same glittery polish Eileen wore, wiggling under the surface. The room smelled strongly of her bath oil or salts or whatever it was—a sort of spicy scent, not flowery.

"Mind company, love?" He'd never before come in on her during one of her baths, but after their talk in the morning and the sweet chat putting Eileen to bed, he couldn't manage to stay away.

She looked up at him standing in the doorway and smiled. "Come on in." She sat up and made room behind her. Chibs stripped quickly and eased in. Ah. She liked her water very hot. Working hard to be a man about it, hoping he wasn't boiling anything important, he sat behind her and stretched his legs on either side of her, then pulled her gently back to recline on his chest. There was a natural sponge on the side of the tub; he picked it up and soaked it, then ran it softly over her skin. She hummed and relaxed.

He kissed her temple. With his lips against her skin, he asked, "How'd today go, love? Alright?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It was fine. Leenie had a good time."

"And you?"

"It was fine." She turned her head to look at him. "Do you need a different answer?"

"No, love. Just trying to gauge how you feel about all that."

"Everybody was nice to me. Even Gemma was okay. So it was fine. I was fine with it." She tucked her head under his chin and sighed. "The talking thing, right?"

"Aye. I think that'd be good."

With a nod, she said, "This is like the audition thing I was talking about, when I know I'm not doing what I'm supposed to. But it's hard for me, Chibs. Not because of the Sons or anything. It's just always been hard. When everybody knows everybody, I don't know how to work into the conversation. Everybody has like…I don't know. It's like a code or a shorthand or something. They all know what they're talking about. I've never been good at finding a way into groups like that. And I don't have anything in common with them. They've all done these amazing things. I've done nothing. The only thing I have in common is that I love a Son. But it's okay. They were nice. I was nice. It was fine."

He was quiet, soothing her with the sponge, his gaze fixed on her white crow, thinking about what she'd said. "You know, being an old lady is a lot to have in common."

She sat up and turned around. "Do I have to be best friends with them? Is that minimum expectation?"

He thought about why he'd been pushing her toward the old ladies. It had started because he'd felt clueless as to how to introduce her to the ways of the club, and he'd wanted them to help her—and they had. But he'd gotten more invested than that. He realized he had been trying to give her friends, help her get grounded. It didn't really matter, though, in the long run, if she became friends with the Sons' women. She and Eileen were protected, regardless, and he had no need of his own to have his lasses deep in the bosom of the club. Lately, with the new nasty business facing the club, keeping them out of Charming as much as possible had serious appeal. "No. I just don't want you to feel alone."

"I don't. I'm not. I have you and Leenie. I'm happy that way. I really am. And I'm okay with days like today. Can that be good enough?"

"Aye, love. If you're happy, then it's more than good enough." He pulled her back to his chest. Dropping the sponge, he slid his hands over her sleek, hot tits. Christ, they felt good. He circled his fingers around their tips until the skin drew tight and hard, and then he rolled both nipples between his fingers and thumbs. She gasped and twitched. Nibbling gently at her earlobe, he whispered, "I'd like to make you happy right now. Up for that?"

She squirmed against his cock. With a laugh in her voice, she whispered back, "_You_ sure are."

"Aye, love. Always."

The water had gone cold, a goodly amount of it on the floor, by the time they got out.


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 26:**

Laura took Leenie's hand and headed down the sidewalk. She had the day off, and Chibs had been leaning on her to start filling up their house, so she and her girl were shopping. It was a lot—there was a lot of space to fill. He didn't much care, he said, about what kind of furniture and stuff they had, but she did. Wanting everything to look intentional, but not wanting it all to look like a furniture showroom—and also not wanting to spend a big pile of Chibs' money—she hadn't really known where to start.

Over the past few weeks, he'd helped some. They'd gone out together a few times and bought the essentials, the big stuff Laura would never have felt comfortable buying on her own. Now they needed side tables and lamps and things to decorate—accent pieces or whatever.

Leenie thought the whole thing was a great adventure. They'd never done much shopping like this, because they'd never had any money. The girl knew her way around Goodwill, but she'd rarely even been in a mall—despite the fact that her mother had worked in one. Recreational browsing had depressed the crap out of Laura, so she hadn't ever been one who would wander through stores daydreaming about what she would buy if she could.

With all this new shopping, Laura was keeping a vigilant eye on Leenie. She wanted her little girl to have everything she needed and many things she wanted, of course. But Leenie was a wonderful, in Laura's mind nearly perfect, little girl. She was kind and generous and thankful for the things she had. One of the few actual benefits to not having much was that Leenie felt entitled to nothing. It would break Laura's heart to see that change.

Laura didn't yet have a clear idea of how much money Chibs had. It wasn't like it was all in a bank account where she could check the balance. There were bank accounts—a few—and she was named on them now, but there were also safe deposit boxes. And plastic sacks under floorboards. And who knew what else. When she'd told him at breakfast that she and Leenie were going to downtown Lodi to check out the shopping district, he'd gone down the hall into his study and come back with a stack of twenties. Fifty of them. Now she was walking around Lodi with a thousand bucks in her bag.

Her life hadn't been any degree of normal since she was seventeen, but this new life was decidedly weird.

It was good, though. Really good, actually. Being loved by Chibs was pretty wonderful. She was getting used to the Sons thing—it helped a lot that they were talking more openly, and that he wasn't pushing her anymore to get deeply involved. Laura wasn't a joiner, not really. Even though she'd been raised in church and had been involved in all the social things that were a part of that community—Bible studies and youth groups and retreats and pancake feeds and ice cream socials and lots of other stuff—and she'd enjoyed a lot of it, that had been different. She'd always been part of that group, from the time she was born, so she'd never actually had to fit in it. At school, though, she'd mostly been a loner. Her friends had been church friends, kids she'd grown up with.

Since she'd been away from that world, she'd had people she'd been friendly with, but not any actual friends. It had been just her and Leenie. Now her and Leenie and Chibs. She liked it that way. It had taken her awhile, she guessed, to get used to this new life, and there were things that still made her uncomfortable, but she felt good. Better than she had since high school, definitely.

Lodi was a nicer town than Charming, too, she thought. Charming was pretty run-down, really. Not bad, but sort of dreary. Here, there were several wineries nearby, which meant a lot of tourists and weekenders, which, in turn, meant that the downtown area was full of chichi boutiques and cafes—places Laura wasn't interested in—but also antique and curio shops, vintage clothing shops, and other quirky little storefronts that gave the area charm—and also gave her some hope that she'd find things she liked and needn't feel too guilty about buying.

So far today, she'd found a set of stoneware dishes she liked. She didn't expect Chibs to care much one way or another, as long as his food didn't land on his lap, but she thought it was pretty—off-white with a pale blue edge and thistles painted on the face. Knowing that the thistle was a romantic Scottish thing, it seemed like a good omen to find a whole set of these dishes, and for a good price. The set they'd been using—the set Chibs had had when they met—was black, four each of bowls, plates, cups, and saucers. He'd also had four each of knives, spoons, and forks. He hadn't been kidding when he'd said he wasn't interested in stuff like this. He seemed to be very interested in her having these things, though.

Leenie was having a great time this day wandering through the antique and vintage shops. Laura hadn't really thought of how much these shops were like fantasy spaces for a little girl with a good imagination—all sorts of strange, unique items crowded together. When they'd gone into a vintage clothing shop, Leenie had just about exploded. She was good and kept her hands to herself until given permission to touch something, but her eyes were enormous. Shell-shocked, even. By the time they'd gone back out to the street, on a mission for an ice cream break, Leenie was wearing a tattered, no-longer-quite-pink tulle tutu over her jeans, several vintage plastic and rhinestone bangles on her wrists, and a blue feathered hat with a fake bluebird pinned to the top.

Maybe it wasn't only Chibs she had to worry about spoiling Leenie.

While they sat on the sidewalk with their chocolate-dipped ice cream cones, Laura scanned the street, considering which of those they hadn't been in yet might be interesting—and factoring in the sugar rush and crash about to hit Leenie. She figured she had two stops left before they should be back in the car so Leenie could wipe out. She'd hoped to find a small table or two, but no luck so far.

Way down at the next corner, though, Laura saw an old wooden sign hanging from a red brick building, swinging very slightly in the gentle, late-spring breeze. It looked worn and rustic. Nothing particularly unusual about that; Lodi seemed to have a good hold on the idea of "quaint." But the sign was formed in the shape of an open book. She couldn't read it from this vantage, but it had to be a bookstore. On this street, Laura would lay money down on it being a used bookstore.

Her library. She still had well more than half of the money Chibs had given her in the morning. Would it be wrong if she spent some of that on books for the library? Should she use her own money for that? No, wait. It didn't matter. It was all supposed to be _theirs_ now. Even though she earned, like, nothing, and Chibs was doing all of the supporting, he was quite insistent that it was _theirs_.

She looked over at Leenie, who'd done pretty well with her cone, being careful not to get any ice cream or chocolate on her fancy new tutu. But she had a decent chocolate goatee going.

"You about done, bug?"

"Yeah it was good!" She grinned a very chocolate grin.

"It was, wasn't it? Let's go in and get cleaned up—then, I think I saw a bookstore. Would you like to see if we can find some books?"

"Yeah, Mommy! For the shelves in the liberry!"

"The li-_brary_. Right. Let's go, then!"

They washed up in the restroom at the back of the ice cream parlor and headed down the street, Leenie skipping. _Loyal Books_ was the name rendered in old-fashioned script painted on the weathered sign. A little bell jingled over the door as they came in, and a big white cat sat up on a stack of books, stretched, and jumped down at Leenie's feet. He wound once around her ankles and strode off, like he'd done his job as shop greeter and was off to log new stock or something.

Leenie had bent over as he'd approached her and whispered, "Hello, kitty." When the cat walked off, she took three steps in the same direction, then turned and looked at Laura, the question clear on her face.

"You can go after the kitty a little, but don't touch him if he's trying to go away."

"Okay Mommy." She followed the cat. Laura stayed within sight of her, but lingered back a bit. She wanted Leenie to feel some independence, but she was still only five. Laura let her think she was more on her own than she really was.

She hadn't seen anyone working here but the cat. There didn't seem to be any other customers, either, which was a shame. The place was wonderful, tables and irregular shelves stacked high with books, little paper tabs tacked to the edges to indicate in steady handwriting the subject and alphabetical run of any given case or shelf, odd little curios tucked randomly around.

The floor was bare, rough wood, like whatever covering might have been there had been stripped away, leaving the old floorboards to show off their own beauty. There was a loft at the back with a narrow, steep, winding iron staircase leading to it. Near where Laura stood was a battered leather club chair tucked between two tall bookcases—a place for a reader to get acquainted with a potential purchase, maybe. And the whole place smelled delightfully of slowly decaying leather and paper, one of Laura's favorite smells.

Leenie had lost the cat but had found a children's book section in a corner, with low cases painted primary colors, and a little rocking chair. Laura watched as her daughter dropped to her knees in front of the shelves and started pulling books loose to make a little pile. When she had a good stack, she muscled them over to the rocking chair and sat down.

Coming up and squatting next to the little rocker, Laura asked, "What'd you find, bug?"

Leenie held up the book in her hand, about baby sea otters. "Books I can read! Can I read to you?"

"That would be great. And then, I'll go look for books for me and you sit here and read, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy."

After Leenie read to her about baby sea otters, being careful to show all the pictures, Laura stood. "Okay. You stay in this corner and call out if you need something or just miss me, okay? I'll be back to check in a couple of minutes."

They spent a long time like that. Laura heard the bell jingle twice and immediately made sure Leenie was in sight, but she never saw another customer, and she never saw anyone working. There was another cat, though, a grey tabby she'd found lazing across a shelf of Russian literature. She'd gone over to be with Leenie a few times; the girl seemed perfectly content to stay right where she was. At some point the white cat made his way back and perched next to Leenie, allowing her to pet his head. The stack of books next to the rocking chair grew quite a bit over the afternoon.

Laura had quite a stack herself, but she didn't know what she'd do with it without anyone around to pay. Finally, sure Leenie would be drooping soon, Laura started to hunt in earnest for someone. After a few minutes' searching, she called out, "Hello…does anyone work here?"

"I do, dear." Laura jumped and turned around. There was an older man—elderly, really, with short, thin, white hair—standing a few feet behind her at the end of a row. He wore saggy khakis, a plaid button-up shirt, and a dark green zippered cardigan. On the end of his nose rested a pair of tortoiseshell horn-rimmed glasses. Central Casting for a bookseller.

"Oh—hi! I've been in here for awhile, and I've got some books I want to buy. My little girl, too—that's a cute little children's section over there."

The man smiled. "Thank you. The register is in the back. I'll meet you there."

She'd seen the register on a narrow wooden counter covered in old book jackets. "Sure. It'll take me a minute."

Several minutes, in fact. She had to make a few trips. Then she went to collect Leenie and, seeing the pricing on the books in her stack, told her she could pick her ten favorites. While she contemplated her choices, Laura and the man began to ring her own stack up.

He commented on every book as he keyed its price into the old manual register, so it took some time. He had a story about the person who'd come in to sell or trade a particular book, or about the first time he'd read that book or its author, or the library sale or flea market at which he'd found it. Laura loved it and asked him questions that prolonged his stories. While they were talking, Leenie came up with her stack held carefully before her.

Laura smiled down at her girl. "Looks like you found your books, bug."

Leenie nodded seriously and handed her mom the books. "Yes these are the best ones." The white cat, having followed her, wound around her ankles and then jumped up on the counter.

The man ran his hand down the cat's back. "Seems you found a friend, Hem," he said. To Leenie he said, "This is Hemingway. He has a good people sense. If he likes you it means you're a good person. And he likes you." Leenie beamed proudly at that but said nothing; she was still shy with strangers.

Turning his attention to Laura, the man said, "You have very good taste in books for someone so young. Do you know all these authors? The poets?"

Laura nodded. "Most of them. Some are new to me, but I like to find new things to like—or, well, not new, I guess, but new to me."

He'd stopped ringing up the books and was regarding Laura in a way that made her vaguely uncomfortable. Not because she felt threatened or he was being creepy, but because it felt like he was trying to get into her head or something. Just at the point she didn't think she could take the stare any longer, he spoke. "Do you work, dear?"

It was a weird question. Inappropriate, but not for a reason Laura could pin down except general nosiness. But she answered it. "Um, yeah. At a deli in Charming."

"Ah. That's honorable work, feeding people. You like it?"

She didn't, actually. Except that it was a job and she hated the thought of being idle and not contributing even a little, she didn't like it at all. The girls she worked with were insipid and shallow—and, since it had become known she was Chibs' old lady, they hated her—and Tom, her boss, treated everyone with this weird attitude of contempt covered over with a thin veneer of friendly enthusiasm. Every time Chibs made a comment about not wanting her to work there, it got harder to fight him.

Not that she was going to tell this stranger all that. "It's fine. It's work."

"Would you like to work here?"

That shocked her completely, and she felt her jaw drop. "What?"

He pushed his glasses to the top of his head. "I know it seems absurd. But I have good people sense, too. I had a heart attack last year, and since then, my sons have become insufferable in their insistence that I need to slow down. I would, but I just haven't found anyone I'd trust to run the shop in my absence. I think perhaps I have. Not to alarm you, but I kept a little bit of an eye on you while you were here. You, dear, are a book lover."

That was true. But still, a job offer out of thin air was strange. "You don't know anything about me, though."

"I know you're careful with books and good to your little girl. I can extrapolate quite a lot from that."

Working in a bookshop. A bookshop like this, not a sterile mall shop or corporate behemoth. Closer to home. Closer to Leenie's school, when it started in the fall. Farther from Neeta, but she could work that out. She didn't know why she was about to say what she was about to say—one of the reasons she was staying at the deli was so she wouldn't have to say what she was about to say—but it felt important to say it. "I was fired from a job for stealing."

He considered her steadily. "Did you steal?"

"No."

"Good. Then I needn't be worried about you stealing from me." As if that single, two-letter word put an end to the question.

Laura was dumbfounded. "I didn't know people like you still existed."

"What kind of people, dear?"

"Trusting."

He smiled. It was a good smile. Jeez, she didn't even know his name—or he hers, for that matter. "Ah. Well, thank you. I should warn you—it wouldn't be an easy job. My sons tell me my records are abysmal, and I'd want some help with that. I don't have anyone else working for me, so you'd be alone often. What I could pay you wouldn't be enough to live in any way anyone would think of as comfort, but it should keep a roof up. And we'd work out an allowance of sorts so you could have some books from the stock every month."

This was too good to be true. Then Laura realized the snag in the lovely tapestry she was weaving in her imagination. "Can you afford to hire anyone? I hope I'm not rude to say so, but it's been quiet here this afternoon."

Still smiling, he nodded. "It's always quiet during the week. The weekend is when we make our nut. We're quite busy on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. It does mean you'd have to work most weekends, I'm afraid. And during the Street Faire every year, my sons and their families come and help out because it gets to be bedlam. The shop is doing fine, dear. Would you like to work here?"

"Yes. Very much."

"Well, that's excellent." He extended his hand across the counter, and Laura took it. "My name is Henry. Henry Locke."

-oOo-

Laura loved the job. She _loved_ it. It was worlds better than the sandwich shop—about the same pay, and not quite as many hours, but those hours just flew.

And she'd gotten it herself. No help from Chibs. The sense of calm and security she felt simply by finally being able to do something for herself again spread into every corner of her life. Everything just made more sense. She still wasn't making much money, but she finally felt like a participant in the life she and Chibs had made together. He had done so much for her and Leenie, he continued to take such care, that she'd felt her own strength atrophying. Or, no. She hadn't consciously felt it, but there had been a kind of vague uncertainty, a sense that something wasn't right. Truly, she hadn't even realized how weak she'd felt, how hard fear had ridden her, until that feeling was gone. Now, though, she felt strong again. She felt sure. She felt truly at home.

And she was making a home. Most of the rooms in their house were done now, and she was proud of how they'd turned out. She was going to be able to fill out the library in their house nicely, too; Henry gave her a $100 book allowance every month. That went far in used books.

He was a sweet old guy, and he gave her a lot of latitude in the shop, right away. Her retail experience—her actual retail experience, including management—gave her insights into his record-keeping, and she'd taken on as one of her first projects a straightening out of his inventory log. That would keep her busy for months—his sons were right about his records.

She was alone in the shop about half the time, just her and the two cats—the grey tabby was Fitzgerald, or Fitz. Henry was an early riser and liked to open the shop, and that worked well for Laura, who had to get Leenie to Neeta's in Charming and then come all the way back. Henry hadn't misrepresented the shop traffic—very quiet on weekdays, when she was able to get a lot of paperwork done, and busy on the weekends.

After a couple of weeks, when she and Henry had established a kind of rhythm, Laura started gently agitating to be able to do something with the front windows. There were two deep display bays, one on either side of the door. They were stacked haphazardly with books, the glass on the windows swirled with a patina of dust. She wanted to spruce up the entrance. Henry was worried it would look too much like a Barnes & Noble. She knew she could make it nice and unique. She could see what she wanted to do very clearly in her head, but it would take some time to convince Henry. He seemed to enjoy her enthusiasm even as he rejected her ideas, so she kept up the light pressure.

At home and at work, Laura felt, well, _right_. There had been no weirdness with Chibs since that awful night weeks ago. She was happy. Leenie was happy. The house had come together. She and Leenie even had health insurance, for the first time in almost a year, and it was a massive load off her mind. Laura felt stable, truly stable, maybe for the first time ever. Ironic that she'd found it with an outlaw.

-oOo-

One morning before work, Laura took Leenie to the dentist—her first checkup in almost eighteen months. Dentists and doctors were among the very few things that made her daughter ill-tempered. She was terrified of it all. She'd never been seriously ill or injured, so she'd never had a doctor do anything more painful to her than a shot, but she didn't like the bright lights and the cold rooms, or the masks and scrubs, or the needles, any of it. Leenie wasn't a child who acted out; Laura thought of her behavior as "acting in"—she pulled deep into herself and didn't cooperate or respond almost at all, not unlike the way she was when they'd lived in the car. So even routine appointments took a lot of prep work.

This appointment, after so long, had Laura worried. She wasn't sure what would happen if Leenie needed a cavity filled or something. But she'd found a pediatric dentist in town, advertising gentle, no-fear dentistry, who took their new insurance, and she held out a small hope that things would be okay.

And they were, overall. Leenie was stiff and withdrawn, and she'd cried a little, which always hurt Laura's heart, but she held Mr. Snuffles close, and she did okay. No cavities, either. All the people working there made a big production out of her good checkup, even giving her a little report card with an A+, which made her grin. And they gave her a sparkly pink toothbrush. Leenie—and Laura—left the appointment feeling pretty good.

It was nearly lunchtime, and Laura didn't have to be at work until two that afternoon. On a whim, she asked Leenie, "Hey, bug—want to see if Chibs wants us to bring him some lunch?" Leenie had never been to T-M.

"Yeah! I can show him my report card and my new toothbrush!"

Laura texted Chibs, who replied in the affirmative right away, asking for burgers—for everyone. Laura and Leenie got in their red SUV and headed off to feed the crew.

-oOo-

Leenie had a blast at T-M. Laura watched, amused, as the guys fawned over her little girl. They hadn't done so before. They'd been nice at Thanksgiving and at Hope's party, but now, with Leenie the only little girl around, they almost all wanted to talk to her. She got lots of high fives about her checkup, and everybody made a fuss about her toothbrush. They were kind of sappy about it, in fact, and they looked ridiculous. Leenie, soaking up the attention and enthusiasm, wasn't shy at all with them. Even Tig came over—not that Laura cared about that. She doubted she'd ever think of him as anything but a jerk.

The guys were friendly with Laura, too, and she felt more comfortable around them than she had. She'd always been more comfortable around people who were nice to her kid. If she thought about it, the way Chibs had clicked so quickly with Leenie was probably a reason she had started to think of him as somebody she'd like to be with. He was older than her father, but he was the sexiest man she'd ever known. He'd only gotten more sexy to her in the time they'd been together. She loved everything about him. Since he'd asked her to tell him why, she thought often of what she loved. His lean, fit body, inked and scarred. His large, coarse hands. His dark, sleek, greying hair. His amazing voice. His wry smile and ironic humor. His kindness. His fierceness. His patience. His loyalty. His love for Leenie. His love for her.

Maybe God was paying attention to her, after all.

Leenie sat on Chibs' lap to eat her burger, while the Sons and mechanics sat and stood nearby with their lunch. Her attention kept wandering over to the big swing set up on a hill at the far side of the lot. She had a similar set in her own back yard, but she was still a sucker for a good swing. As she was finishing her meal, Chibs tipped his head to hers and asked, "Do you want to go play on the swings?" Leenie nodded, soberly, her eyes wide.

"Just for a bit, though, bug," Laura cut in. "We have to be at the shop in an hour." Henry liked Leenie and encouraged Laura to bring her to the shop when she worked a short day like this. Leenie loved it, spending the time reading and playing with Hem and Fitz.

Laura started to clean up the lunch trash, but Chibs stilled her with a hand on her arm. He looked over at Butch, the only Prospect, since Gordo had been killed, and said, "Clean this up." Butch, not quite done eating, wadded up the rest of his burger and did as he was told. Laura felt bad, but she understood how things worked, so she didn't fuss about it.

As they crossed the lot to the swings, Chibs swept Leenie up and settled her on his shoulder. Laura felt the truth in her bones: they were a family.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: **I owe **Simone Santos** and **MuckyShroom** huge thanks and a big, squeezy hug for their help on this chapter.

**Warning**: Hap gets his torture on here. It's on the intense side. I did some research.

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 27:**

"Will you push me, Chibs?"

"'Course, pretty." Eileen could swing on her own just fine, but she liked it when Chibs pushed her; she could get much higher. Laura got nervous when he did, but she hadn't stopped him. He liked to see that trust. He walked between the chains of the swings, and Leenie climbed on. Laura sat in the other swing and rocked gently back and forth on her feet.

"Mr. Snuffles is gonna have to sit this one out, though, yeah?" Eileen nodded and handed her bunny over. Chibs sat him down on the ground, against one of the heavy wooden supports.

Powered by Chibs' strong arms, Eileen got momentum quickly, and soon she was cresting over his head. Every time she came back down, she squealed in delight. Laura looked back at Chibs, looking a bit concerned, but still she didn't interfere. She knew he'd keep their girl safe.

"It makes my tummy tickle!," she giggled at one apex. "Mommy, swing too!"

"I don't think I can, bug. I don't think my skirt will swing." Chibs thought she was probably right. She was wearing a bloody fantastic slim grey skirt that hugged the fuck out of her arse. Laura didn't have an excess of curve below her chest, but that skirt worked what she had just right. He'd like to see her try to swing—he wouldn't mind a view of her arse coming up on him, snug in that skirt and hugged by the sling of the swing.

Still giggling gleefully, soaring back and forth, Eileen tried again. "Try, Mommy. It's fun!"

With a laugh, Laura gamely began to swing. Chibs pushed Eileen and watched Laura stretch out and sit forward, stretch out and sit forward, getting her own momentum. Fuck, it was hot. On one pass, as she rose up near him, he reached out and put his hand on her arse to give her a push. She jumped a little and squeaked. When she looked back at him, he just grinned.

The Sons were moving into the dark part of their inevitable cycle, facing new conflicts with dangerous men and dangerous shite, but even so, Chibs felt calmer and more complete than he had in many years. Life with Laura and Eileen had found its equilibrium. They had made a home together. Laura had a job she loved, away from Charming. He was shocked at how much it had calmed her to get that job. Eileen was happy and secure. He had love. They all had love. The feeling of well-being he had was one he thought he'd never had in his life before. He and Fee, even at their best, had been all drama and battle. He and Laura had their struggles, but there was a kind of peace growing in their love now, even when they fought, that he had not known before.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't realized how high Eileen had gotten or that he'd stepped closer. Suddenly, her feet grazed his head and knocked his cap off. The chains on the swing went briefly slack, and when the slack caught up, the swing jerked, making Eileen gasp, and not with joy. He caught her and held on. "Whoa, lass! That's a bit high, yeah? Sorry, pretty."

"It's okay. That was a little scary but still fun. I think I'm done now, though."

Laura gave Chibs a look that said he was a very lucky bastard Eileen hadn't gotten hurt. He shrugged an apology in response, then brought Eileen, still in the swing, back down to its neutral position.

Laura stood. "Okay, bug. We should go anyway. We have work to do this afternoon, right?"

"Yeah! I like working!"

As Chibs helped Eileen off the swing, Bobby called from the middle of the lot. "Hey, princess! You know anyone who likes chocolate muffins? Got a whole batch just out the oven!"

Eileen turned to Chibs, her eyes huge. "I don't know, pretty. Ask your ma."

"Mommy?"

Laura shook her head. Chibs could tell she wasn't pleased with either Bobby or him. "We can't be late for work, bug."

Eileen's little lip pooched out, and her head drooped, but she nodded. Chibs met Laura's eyes and sent her a look. He wouldn't override her, but it was just a muffin. How long could it take to eat a muffin?

Laura rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay. One muffin, and then we really have to go."

"Yay!" Eileen threw her arms around her mother's hips and then turned fast and called to Bobby, "ME! I LIKE CHOCOLATE MUFFINS! ME! ME!" Then she grabbed Chibs' hand, and her mother's, and pulled them back to the clubhouse.

After muffins, Chibs walked them to Laura's SUV and helped Eileen get buckled in. He came around as Laura was about to close the driver's door, catching the side of the door and leaning in to her. "You'll be home just after six, then?"

Laura nodded. "Yep. Will you?"

"Should be. Want me to start supper?" He brushed her nose with his, finding this mundane conversation powerfully erotic. Hell, their whole visit had been.

"I've got steaks marinating in the fridge. If you grill, that can wait until we're all home." Her eyes flared; she'd picked up his sexual vibe, which made him all the hotter.

"Sounds good, love." He kissed her, letting his tongue lightly trace her lips. She moaned, very quietly, and tried to deepen the kiss. He pulled back with a grin. "You have a good day, me lovelies. I'll see you soon."

He closed the door and stood where he was, watching, until his loves pulled out of the lot and drove away. Then he stood there for a few seconds more, just smiling, before he headed back to the garage.

He'd made it all the way back to the bays before he remembered his cap. Laura hated it, and he knew she would not be sorry to see him lose it, but he'd grown attached to the thing. He trotted back to the swings. It was lying at the base of the fence.

He hadn't even stood fully upright again when he heard the vicious squeal of big tires making a sharp turn at speed. A black, blacked out van was tearing into the lot. Chibs knew immediately what kind of trouble a vehicle like that, coming in like that, meant. He was standing alone by the swings, unarmed and unarmored.

The doors on both sides of the van opened, and several men—men, not boys—with big guns jumped out and began firing. Chibs had no choice but to hit the ground. He dropped, got as flat as he could and, still holding his old cap, put his hands over his head. He could feel bullets hitting all around him, behind him, tearing into the aluminum slats in the fencing, hitting the wood beams of the swings, tearing up the rubber matting that made the surface of this little play area.

Where his family had been, no more than ten minutes earlier.

Blind and immobile, Chibs could only listen and pray. He heard when the Sons started firing back. And he heard when the van peeled away. He had not been hit. He sat up and looked around. Christ. The bikes, the clubhouse, the garage office, all riddled and gouged with bullets. Luckily, it had been quiet, garage-wise, so there were only a couple of customer cars damaged.

There was one man down in the middle of the lot—one of the bad guys. Jax, Hap, and Bobby were heading toward him. Tig was sitting against the clubhouse wall, holding his shoulder; Juice leaned against the wall next to him.

The swing set was all but destroyed. The swing he'd pushed Eileen on, and the one Laura had joined them on, were still moving erratically, the vinyl coating on their chains substantially shot off. The seats were torn to shreds, and there were several long rows of bullet holes in the fencing immediately behind.

Mr. Snuffles, forgotten in Eileen's excitement over the chocolate muffins, lay scattered in pieces, his stuffing spread out over the ground like offal. Puffs of white, gauzy fill still floated in the air.

Oh, sweet Mother Mary. Ten minutes. Ten minutes earlier, and he'd have lost everything.

Heart pounding, he stood, brushed himself off, put his cap on his head, grabbed up the remains of Eileen's beloved bunny, and went down to the lot. If that bastard on the ground wasn't dead, Chibs wanted in on making him so.

He wasn't dead. He'd been shot in the gut, near his right hip. Despite what must be intense pain, he lay still and glared up at the Sons.

Jax bent down and got close. "Wow, _ese_. Your crew just left you behind. No honor among assholes, I guess. Left you with a gut wound, too_. _Wonder what kind of damage it did. Could take you a long time to die. My brother here can make you feel every second. You tell us who your crew is, though, and what they want, and we can make you go quick and easy."

No response but a deepening of his glare.

Hap stepped in and ripped the man's bloody t-shirt in half to expose his chest. He was heavily inked, but his tags weren't familiar to Chibs, or to the others. The ink was clearly Mexican, though. Jax turned and signaled, and Juice came up, limping woodenly, one leg of his blue Dickies soaked with blood. He'd been hit in the thigh—the same thigh he'd been shot in years before. Then, he hadn't been able to walk. Now he was managing, barely. Old nerve damage had some benefits.

Juice pointed to a bird inked over the man's heart. "That one. Hermanos del Halcón—Brothers of the Hawk. Big crew out of Mexico. They're like us, though, or the way we used to be—they're not bikers, but they do enforcement and muling, not into the manufacture themselves. They have no presence north of the border. Not until now, anyway, I guess."

Nodding toward the clubhouse, Jax asked Juice, "Tig okay? You okay?"

Juice nodded. "Through-and-through to the shoulder, but he'll be okay. Me too—just a gouge, I think. Guess we could both use some patching up, though."

The Hermano said something in Spanish, but none of the Sons spoke anything more than enough to order a beer and find a toilet. Hap responded by putting his boot on the Hermano's bleeding gut. The wounded man didn't even moan or close his eyes. Tough son of a whore.

Hap looked at Jax. "We got maybe five minutes before we're eyeball deep in blue."

"Yeah. Hap, Chibs—get him in the van and get out of here. Your cabin, Hap. If you can get something out of him, good. Either way, do your thing. Bobby—we need to make sure we're clean. Everybody else on that."

Bobby headed back to the clubhouse. Chibs turned to Jax. "We putting eyes on family?"

Jax nodded. "Yeah. Your girls on their way home?"

"No—she's working. Loyal Books, downtown Lodi."

Again, Jax nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'll send Butch to them." He looked at Chibs' hand, still wrapped around the pieces of Eileen's bunny. "You want me to take care of that, too?"

Chibs nodded and handed Mr. Snuffles over. He felt a strange but forceful kind of grief over that wad of fluff and fake fur. "Thanks, Jackie."

He and Hap bent down to pick the Hermano up. They headed for the van.

-oOo-

Chibs and Hap left the lot and found a side street at some distance, then pulled over and bound the Hermano better for the trip to the woods. On the ride, they both called their old ladies to let them know to stay put where they were and wait for their bodyguard.

This was Laura's first experience with needing protection, and Chibs' anxiety, which had been at a good boil since he first heard squealing tires, was coming to a lively froth. They'd been solid for weeks now, and she seemed settled, but she'd skittered toward the door often enough in the past that he wanted to guard against making her panic.

She answered on the third ring. "Hey you. Just walked in the door. Miss us already?"

Despite the seriousness of the call and the situation, he smiled. "Aye, love. Always miss you."

"Hey, speaking of missing things—Leenie left Mr. Snuffles at the swing. She's pretty worried. Can you grab him and bring him home with you?"

"Aye." He couldn't tell her what happened to the bunny, not now, not yet. But he had to tell her the rest. "Listen, love. We had a bit of excitement after you left. It's alright, I'm alright. Everybody is." Well, mostly, but he wasn't going to give her that kind of detail. "But we're sending somebody to all the families. Just to make sure everything stays quiet. Butch is on his way—should be there in a few minutes. He'll stay with you until I see you at home, yeah?"

"Chibs, what's going on? You're okay? Should I be worried?" There was a brittle edge of panic along her voice. He needed to watch his words and push that panic away.

"It's alright, love. Truly. I'm good. You should be careful, not worried. Understand? If I was worried, Butch would be there to collect you and bring you to me. He's only going to visit, yeah?"

Silence on the other end of the line.

"Laura? I need to hear you say you're alright and you understand."

When she spoke, her voice was clearer, calmer. "I'm here. Just…processing. Okay. I'm okay. I understand. Should we go home?"

"No, love. Unless Butch or I say otherwise, stay where you are. Have your day. Go home when you planned. I'll see you there."

"When?"

He wanted to be with her now. Since he'd seen the destroyed swings, his need to see his lasses was on him hard. He knew it was irrational, but the need was no less potent for that knowledge. "Soon's I can. Soon's I can. I love you, Laura."

She was quiet. Then, "For some reason, you saying that right now is what makes me scared."

"It's alright. I promise. You trust me, yeah?"

"Yeah. Okay. I love you."

When he closed the phone, Hap was watching him. "She okay?"

Chibs thought she actually was—frightened and worried, yes. But appropriately so. He thought she was okay. He nodded. "Aye. She'll do fine."

"Okay, then. Let's see if we can get this asshole talkin'."

When they got to the cabin, they dragged the Hermano out of the back of the van and carried him to the door. "Hold up," said Hap, and they dropped him roughly in the dirt. Hap went in. Chibs stood in the doorway, one eye on the still silent, still conscious Hermano.

Chibs hadn't been to Hap's cabin for a long while. Usually Tig went with him for these outings, and it had been a goodly time since they'd needed to use these facilities at all. The "cabin" was really a moderate-size shack. One room, a wood stove along the center of the far wall, a row of cabinets along a side wall, under a plywood counter with a pump sink. Several coils of heavy chain lay on the rough countertop. Hap got the wood stove going, then crossed to the counter and opened one of the cabinets, pulling out a large stack of tarps. He spread them out over the floor of the cabin. Clearly, he planned for this to get very messy.

When he came back to the door, he and Chibs hoisted the Hermano up and dropped him on a tarp inside. Then Hap went back to his prep. Knowing that Hap was in his zone and not interested in help or chitchat while he set up, Chibs looked around. The cabin was as he remembered it, but it was also different.

The walls and floor were bare but for large, steel rings imbedded at several points, and at varying heights and distances. That was the same. The low ceiling, though, bare to the beams, which were heavier than one would expect from what looked like a neglected shack, was newly fitted with contraptions—tracks and pulleys and big, thick rings with lengths of even heavier chain looped through. Hap had done some improving.

As for furniture, there wasn't much. A couple of three-legged stools and a couple of slat-back chairs. That, and a large rolling tool box, a wheelbarrow, and several galvanized aluminum pails. And, off in the corner near the wood stove, another new thing since Chibs had last been here: a four-legged stool, topped with a rusty metal pyramid of some kind. The point of the pyramid looked serrated and wickedly sharp.

Clad now in a white disposable coverall, Hap turned and nodded toward the Hermano. "Strip him for me, will ya?"

Chibs nodded. "Full monty?"

"Yeah."

When he was stripped, still fully conscious and almost entirely silent, they changed out his nylon tie bindings for the heavy chains, around his wrists behind his back, around his ankles, and around his waist. The blood at the wound near his hip had slowed to a thick ooze. They muscled him onto one of the slat-back chairs. First, Hap took an iron rod from the stove and cauterized his bullet wound. Except for an increase in the speed and weight of his breath, the Hermano met that with the same stony silence. Then Hap pulled a stool up and sat in front of him. Chibs crossed the room and got a coverall for himself.

Hap leaned in. "_Habla Inglés_, motherfucker?"

The Hermano spat into Hap's face. Hap barely twitched. Hell, he barely blinked. Wiping the spittle—tinged with pink—from his face, he grinned. Then he pulled out his blade and sliced off the tip of the Hermano's dick. That got a reaction—not a noise, but a very pronounced bulging of his eyes. The tip of his dick oozed rich, red blood.

"You don't speak our language, no point trying to get you to talk. I'm in the mood to play, though, _ese_. I like to play hard. You shot up our home. You hurt our brothers. We're both gonna want to play a little, I think." Chibs nodded. He definitely wanted a piece of this arsehole, who'd come so close to hurting his family.

They worked him for over an hour. Chibs, feeling a pulsing, scalding rage under his skin, had gotten inventive with his switchblade, and one of pails was nearly full. Hap had cauterized wounds as they'd made them. He was very good at keeping a subject alive for as long as he wanted. Both Chibs and Hap were well splattered with bodily fluids, but still the Hermano remained nearly silent. His breathing was becoming labored, and he was obviously in great pain, but he said nothing, not even in Spanish.

Hap stood and stretched. "I know you hurt, _ese_. I know what kind of pain you're feeling. I got respect. I do. Been a long while since I've had a worthy subject, and I really appreciate the chance to scrub the rust off my skills. But I got plans tonight, so as satisfying as this has been, we need to move this party along. Time to get to the real fun." He nodded at Chibs, and they hefted the Hermano up and dragged him to the center of the room, where Hap linked his chain bindings to the track and pulley system in the ceiling. They hoisted him into the air several feet, then, while Chibs provided the ballast to keep him aloft, Hap brought over the stool with the metal contraption on its top and set it directly under him. Finally, Hap got another length of chain from the counter and linked it to the ankle bindings and then to the wall, pulling the Hermano's legs parallel to the floor.

All at once, Chibs understood the purpose of the reconfigured stool. Oh, Christ. Oh holy fucking Christ.

"You're gonna talk, _ese_, or you're gonna scream. Either way, you don't die quiet." Hap took the chain from Chibs. "I got it, brother. You need to sit?"

Chibs supposed he looked a bit waxy. He felt a bit waxy. He'd seen some fucked-up shite, he'd done some fucked-up shite, in Ireland and in the States—right here in this room, in fact, on this very day—and his stomach was made of iron. But this was something new. He took a breath and blew it out. "Nah, brother. It's good."

Hap nodded and lowered the chain, slowly, until it slackened, and the Hermano was sitting on the vicious, sharp point of the metal pyramid, his full weight, his bare arse, resting on that point.

Then, finally, he screamed.

-oOo-

It took the Hermano a long time to die. He never even tried to talk. Even when Hap began pulling him off the pyramid and dropping him abruptly down, he only screamed. Whatever intel this fella had, he was dying with it.

Disposal and cleanup took another few hours. The blood and viscera were considerable, and the cabin stank of every possible bodily odor. They worked quietly. Hap was not a talker in general, and even less so when he was on the job, not unless the talk was job-specific. So for hours, the only sounds were the swish of sponges, and the rustle of plastic. And the singing whine and whack of a machete Hap kept surgically sharp. Then they burned everything. It was long dark by the time they were done.

On the ride back to T-M—he realized he had no idea if his bike was even road-worthy after the shooting—Chibs felt like a too-taut guitar string that had been very aggressively strummed. He pulled his personal cell, intending to call home, but his hand shook. He didn't want Laura to hear that shake in his voice, so he put the phone back in his pocket. He just needed to get home and see for himself that they were safe.

And he needed to keep control of himself. The thought occurred to him that he should stop in the clubhouse and grab a girl first, get it out of him before he got to Laura. He even entertained the idea for a few minutes. But no. Trading one trouble for another. No. He needed to keep control. That was the answer.

When they pulled into the lot, all looked quiet. There were fewer bikes along the rail, but his was there. They got out of the van, and Hap headed straight for the clubhouse. "Drink, brother?"

Chibs was tempted, but he couldn't go in there. That was trouble. He had too much need. He shook his head. "Heading home."

Hap nodded. "I'll brief Jax, no problem." He turned again toward the clubhouse.

Chibs called out again. "Hap—what _is_ that thing?"

Knowing immediately what he meant, Hap grinned broadly. "Judas Cradle. Spanish Inquisition thing. Saw it on the History Channel." He strode on into the clubhouse.

Chibs went to his bike. Some body damage, but that seemed the extent. He mounted and fired it up without trouble. Then he headed home.


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 28:**

Butch got to the shop about five minutes after Chibs' call, while Laura was still processing what he'd said and what it meant. Luckily, Henry had left almost as soon as she and Leenie had gotten there. Since he had help now, he'd started going to the Elks Lodge a couple of afternoons a week, playing cribbage with some buddies. She was glad for him, and particularly glad she didn't have to explain the ginormous biker loitering in his shop.

Leenie had been racked with guilt and worry for leaving Mr. Snuffles behind, but as soon as Laura told her that Chibs had him, she settled right down. She hoped Chibs remembered him, even with whatever else was going on. Probably ridiculous to think about the bunny when there was "excitement" going on, but when Leenie cried, Laura felt it.

Laura didn't know Butch very well—she didn't know any of the club guys except Chibs well. Ironically, Happy was probably the one she knew next best. But Butch seemed nice. He was about her age and a big guy—the kind of big that looked genetic rather than the product of brutal hours in the gym. He had a lot of tattoos all over his arms, like Happy, but big, thick black patterns. Tribal tattoos or whatever. If it weren't for his baby face, he'd probably seem scary. But he had round, smooth, rosy cheeks and wide blue eyes, and regardless of his size, that face made him look sweet.

"Hey, Laura. How you doin'?"

"Hi, Butch. Chibs called me. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do."

He shrugged. "Just what you usually do—but let me know if you're gonna leave or go someplace there's a outside door." He looked around. "Is there another outside door?"

"Yeah—in back. We keep it locked, though."

"Is it like this one?" He indicated the full-glass front door.

"No, it's just a steel slab."

"Good. There a place in sight of this door I can sit?"

"Yeah. There's a chair over there, between those cases." She looked over at Leenie. "Is it okay for her to be over there?"

"Sure." He headed to the chair and wedged himself in. Smiling at Leenie, he said, "Hiya, shorty."

Leenie looked up and grinned. "Hi Butch. You came with us!"

"Yep, I did. Wanted to hang out."

Laura felt like she should do something, offer him hospitality, or something. "You want something to drink? There's a fridge in back, with bottled water and Diet Coke. Or I could make coffee."

"Naw. Thanks, but I'm good for now. Maybe later."

"Okay." She turned toward the counter, where she planned to sit and go through old files. Then, she turned back. "Butch, what's going on?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, hon. That's for Chibs to say. I'm just gonna stick with you, keep you and the shorty safe till I get you back to him. Okay?"

"Okay." She didn't think there was anything else to say but that.

-oOo-

The afternoon passed uneventfully. After a while, Butch did ask for a Diet Coke, and he followed her to the doorway leading into the little back office to get it. Leenie carried on as if nothing were unusual except she had another person to talk to, and Butch bore up well against her onslaught of chatter. When she needed to use the bathroom, they all three went to the back, Butch lingering again at the doorway. Laura struggled to stay calm, and she mostly managed it.

She wouldn't have pegged Butch for the reading type, but he'd sat in that tattered leather chair and read a biography of Johnny Cash all afternoon. Laura thought it was sweet.

The store was quiet, with only a handful of customers, two of whom were selling, not buying. Every time the bell jingled, Butch stood. That more than anything else made Laura feel anxious.

Chibs had said not to worry. He'd promised everything was okay. She put her trust in that and carried on with her day. But she checked her phone obsessively, hoping he'd call. He didn't, and she didn't want to call him, not knowing what she might disturb. She needed to see him. She needed to see he was okay. With her own two eyes. She wanted to know what was going on, but more than anything, she just wanted Chibs.

After Laura had cashed out and closed up the shop, Butch stood and moved to put the Cash biography away where he'd found it. Laura stopped him. "Hey—you can have that, if you want."

He looked up, surprised. "Yeah? I don't want to get you in no trouble or put you out any."

"It's no trouble. I get a book allowance here. Let me just write it down." She did. Closing the ledger—they were all paper and pen around here; the thought of Henry using a computer was hilarious—she said, "It's the least I can do for you taking care of us today."

Butch grinned, those rosy cheeks swelling. "Well, thanks. It's a good book. You like Johnny Cash?"

That wasn't really Laura's kind of music. "I don't know much about him—I saw that movie, though, with Joaquin Phoenix. I liked that."

Butch made a disappointed face. "That was okay. But you should read somethin' like this. He was a cool dude. _The_ cool dude." He grinned again. "I could lend you my new book when I'm done."

She smiled. "Thanks." Taking Leenie's hand and shutting down the lights, she followed Butch out onto the sidewalk. He walked them to her SUV, his eyes tracking all around them. His bike was parked right behind her.

When he was sure they were secure, standing at her door, he said, "I'll be right behind you the whole way. You good?"

"Yeah, we're good." He closed the door, gave it a pat, and went back to his Dyna. When Laura heard it kick to life, she pulled away from the curb.

Chibs had told her stuff like this happened sometimes. She thought she could deal with it. Knowing that there was some kind of trouble, she did feel safer with Butch around.

But she wanted Chibs.

-oOo-

She'd ordered pizza when it was clear he wasn't going to be home in time for dinner. Somehow, she'd rather throw food away than feed Butch the steak meant for Chibs. Nothing against Butch, but there was something going on, and Chibs was in the middle of it. She didn't want somebody else eating his steak. Silly, but true.

She tried to keep the evening normal for Leenie. She'd changed into shorts and a t-shirt, and they'd all spent some time in the yard after they got home. Then they'd had their pizza and watched television. At the usual time, Laura had helped Leenie bathe and put her to bed. So far, her daughter seemed completely unaware that there was anything remarkable about the day except that Mr. Snuffles had spent the afternoon with Chibs. Laura considered that a big gold star in the parenting column.

It took a lot of bedtime stories to get Leenie to sleep without her bunny, but once she was, then Laura relaxed her hold on her worry a bit. She wanted Chibs home. She wanted to hear his voice. Butch hadn't heard anything, either, as far as she kenw. She didn't know if that was a good sign or bad, and he wouldn't say. She supposed he wasn't allowed, and she didn't want to get him in trouble, but not knowing was starting to make her crazy and piss her off.

They were home for hours before she finally, finally heard his bike pulling into the garage. When she heard the door powering up, she fairly leapt from her stool at the breakfast bar and ran into the garage. Butch was right behind her, calling her name. Probably she was doing something she shouldn't, but fuck him.

She was in Chibs' arms as soon as he was off his bike. He held her tight, so tight it hurt, but she didn't care. She was glad. They stood there in the middle of the garage, wound up together, her bare feet almost off the ground. He was okay. He was home.

After a moment, she realized that he was rigidly tense. He was shaking, in fact. Not like he was cold or scared. More like a vibration. She felt it everywhere his body touched hers. Her head was pressed tightly to his shoulder; she turned a bit and kissed his neck. His pulse was going crazy.

"Chibs?"

He set her aside roughly. "Eileen?"

"In bed. She's good. She had a good day. She stopped worrying about Mr. Snuffles when I told her he was with you."

He strode past her. On his way past Butch, he said, "Get out." Then he kept going.

He obviously wanted to be on his own. Laura was a little hurt, but she set that aside. She got Butch's book and kutte and said goodbye to him, even giving him a hug. Then she went looking for her man. She found him kneeling at Leenie's bedside, watching her sleep. Coming in softly behind him, she laid her hand on his shoulder. He jumped.

"Chibs?"

He came up to his feet and took her head in his hands. God, his hands were shaking. With a heavy kiss to her forehead, he whispered. "You need to stay away from me for awhile, love." Then he went around her, out of Leenie's room, down the hall. She heard their bedroom door close.

At first, she was confused. She'd been away from him for hours. She'd been worried. He was here. Why did he want to be away? Then, as she stood in the middle of her sleeping daughter's dim room, all the connections forged in her head. This was like those other nights. When he'd scared her. When he'd hurt her. When he'd needed something she hadn't been able to give him. After that last, awful time, when he'd explained, she'd asked herself if she could give him what he needed. Give what he needed to take. Take control of the situation so he could have what he needed without hurting her. She hoped it wasn't the hurt he needed. It couldn't be.

So could she? Could she offer that to him, knowing that it was control he lacked and needed to recover?

Only one way to know. Stepping lightly, she left Leenie's room, pulling the door to, then went down the hall to Chibs. She opened the door. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. His kutte was folded at the end of the bed.

"Chibs?"

He made a sound that was half sob and half laugh, but he didn't look up. "Laura. I meant it, lass. You need to give me room." His voice sounded strange. Strangled.

With a deep breath to calm her skittering heart, she knelt on the floor in front of him and put her hands on his knees. "I don't want to give you room. I want to help you."

He raised his head at that and stared at her. Then, with a whispered, "No, love," he stood, skirting her where she knelt, and crossed to the window, his back to her.

He was scaring her more than she already was. But what was the worst that could happen? He wasn't going to turn into a werewolf or something. They'd had rough sex. And she knew what it felt like when he forced her—this, allowing it, couldn't be anything as bad as that. She had nothing to fear. She didn't. So she swallowed down the fear she had and walked over to him.

When she laid her hands flat on his back, he flinched again, but she didn't pull away. "You asked me to help you. I'm saying okay." She kissed his back. His shirt smelled rank. She didn't want to think too hard about where those smells had come from. Instead she ducked around to face him and began unbuttoning it.

He looked down at her as if she was causing him real pain every time she pushed a button through its hole, but he didn't stop her or pull away. "Laura, I don't…I can't…." He ended with an inarticulate groan.

His shirt open, she pushed her hands under it to take it off his shoulders. He wasn't wearing a beater, so his bare chest was exposed—and heaving. Leenie's name over his heart. "I know. Chibs, I know."

She saw it in his eyes when he stopped fighting. Then his hand came up and slid along the side of her head, reaching back and grabbing a tight handful of hair at her nape. It hurt, a bit, as her hair pulled in his grip. Her heart skipped, but she held his wild, fiery gaze. Not knowing if she was offering permission, making a plea for mercy, or both, she whispered, "I love you."

And then she was being dragged forward by her hair, and his mouth was on hers.

He kissed her so hard—she could feel his teeth grinding against his lips and hers. His clutch on her hair got even tighter, and his other hand came around her back to grab a fistful of her t-shirt and pull so hard that the neckline dug into her throat. He held her so that she had to fight for room to breathe, and his erection was like steel against her belly. It all hurt. But she could feel the tension and need pulsing through him, and she fought his hold enough to force her arms up and around his neck. She held him as tightly as she could and kissed him back with all the passion she could muster.

He jerked back as if she'd hurt him. For seconds, he started down at her. Hoping it wasn't the force he needed, she didn't look away. Her brain whirled, trying to understand what he needed and whether she could do it, trying not to be afraid, trying to know what boundaries to set. All of this was new to her. Every step of their relationship had been about Laura learning something new about this man and his world.

Her man. Their world.

Something in his eyes changed, a final decision made. Or maybe a last stand lost. He yanked her arm hard and shoved her face-first against the wall next to his dresser, so hard it knocked the wind out of her a little. Then he was on her again, the full length of his body on hers, his hand pulling her hair again, moving it to the side so he could put his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, on the skin of her neck.

Laura made a decision of her own. She would give him what he needed, but he would see her when he took it. Her heart huge in her throat, she put her hands flat on the wall and pushed with all she had. He was a lot bigger than she was, but he wasn't expecting it, and she forced him to take a step back. In the small space she'd made, she turned back to face him. He still had her hair wrapped around his fist, so she turned in that direction. He grabbed her shoulder—the right, with his mark—and tried to flip her around again, but she knocked that hand away. His eyes widened in surprise.

She didn't know why they weren't talking, but they weren't. Some kind of weight in the air seemed to still their voices. Emboldened by the self-assertion she'd managed, Laura reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair, then yanked, pulling him down to bring his head to hers. She kissed him as ferociously as he'd kissed her, mashing her mouth against his. Again, he jerked back and stared at her.

She stared back, her eyebrows up, trying to say to him silently that she was more than something to fuck. Even now, no matter what he needed. He had to see her.

As Chibs stared into her eyes, his hands moved to her shorts and opened them. She let him, keeping her eyes steady. When he yanked her shorts and underwear off her hips and down her legs, she stepped out of them, her hands on his shoulders and her eyes on his. They stared at each other as he opened his belt and jeans. And then his hands were on her waist, gripping her hard enough to bruise. He lifted her off the ground and shoved her, again, against the wall, this time facing him. Still without moving her eyes from his—she wasn't sure either of them had even blinked—she lifted her legs to his hips.

Then he did blink. He shifted, one hand leaving her waist, and then, with a coarse grunt, he was inside her. She grunted, too, at the force with which he'd entered her. She wasn't very wet—enough that it didn't hurt badly, but not so much that his entry was completely smooth.

He bit down on her shoulder and began to move, grunting savagely every time he pushed deep. He moved fast, his thrusts almost mechanical. It hurt a little. Not the way it had hurt before, but this was a fucking, no way around that, and too brutal for her to enjoy. Even when their sex was rough, he was attentive to her, he touched her in ways that were for her enjoyment. Now, he just gripped her and fucked her. But she held on, her legs tight around his waist, her arms over his shoulders.

She wasn't going to come, she knew that for sure. She knew, too, that her pleasure was not on his mind. She wasn't sure even _his_ pleasure was on his mind. But she realized it was okay. There was something about this, something _fulfilling_ about giving him this, being what he needed and letting him have it. Meeting this need. She held on, threading her fingers into his hair, and let him.

He came quickly, groaning and shaking, and then he was still, his head on her shoulder and his chest heaving against hers. She held on and waited, not sure what he would do next.

He moved slightly, and she felt his lips on her neck, gently. Against her skin, he said, his voice low and thick with emotion, "I'm so sorry."

She turned and kissed the side of his head. She put her mouth to his ear and whispered, "Don't be. It's okay. I told you it was okay. I wanted to help you."

He leaned back and looked at her. Laura was shocked and deeply moved to see that his eyes were wet. He kissed her softly on the lips and then pulled back again. "Christ, I love you. I don't deserve you. But I'm going to keep you." He kissed her again, this time lingering, moving his tongue over and into her mouth. He stepped away from the wall, still holding her closely, her body still wrapped around his, his body still filling her, and walked them to their bed.


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 29:**

Chibs laid Laura gently down on the mattress, pulling out as she released her grip on his hips. He stood then and stripped the rest of his clothes off, toeing off his boots and socks, shedding his jeans and boxers. Seeing him getting naked, Laura discarded her t-shirt and bra, then, too.

He was glad. Glad she wanted him, even after what he'd done. Again.

But no, not again. This time had been different. She had come to him. She had allowed him. More than that, she had offered herself to him. His head spun at the thought of it. He'd need to take some time to think it through, what it meant, but now…now he needed to atone.

He stretched out on his side next to her, propped on his elbow. Her chest rose and fell with her quickened breath. He knew she hadn't come, she hadn't enjoyed what he'd done, and he figured that her breathlessness was anxiety rather than arousal. She'd been afraid, and she'd given herself anyway.

Christ. What kind of man needed to do that? To the woman he loved?

With his free hand, he brushed gold strands from her face, and she looked at him with those dark blue eyes. She closed them when he traced his fingers over her forehead, the arches of her brows, her cheekbones, the straight, perfect line of her freckled nose, her soft, sweet, pink lips. As his fingers wandered over her chin and down her throat, he leaned in and kissed her lightly.

When their lips met, she opened her mouth and brought her arms around him, her whole body curving into his, her leg hooking around his, and he understood that she truly bore him no ill will for how he'd taken her.

Moving from her mouth, he kissed along the same path his fingers had taken, tracing her graceful collarbone and nibbling along her shoulder. He moved down to her breast, cradling it in his hand and gently brushing her nipple with his beard, something he knew well she enjoyed.

Indeed, she took a deep breath and moaned it out, her hands moving into his hair, holding him close. As he sucked her nipple between his teeth, he let his hand travel along her side, his thumb drawing along her ribs and belly, and then he swept inward to her core. She was wet, from him at least, but he could feel that she was a little swollen, too. With a gentle touch, he slid his fingers over her folds, trailing down and back up, over and over again, as lightly as he could, until her hips bucked against him and her moans had taken on a breathy, staccato beat.

He sucked harder on her nipple as he pushed one finger, then two into her. She arched hard, her hips rising up from the bed; as she came back down, she grabbed his head and pulled him away from her breast. He looked up, worried. Had he hurt her? Again?

"I want you to be inside me."

He'd only been half-hard, guilt and weariness suppressing his arousal, but at her words, her voice, the love and trust in her eyes, he swelled full. "You're sure, love?" He had intended only to give her pleasure, not take more for himself.

She nodded and spread her legs wide. He needed no further invitation. He rolled onto her and slid in, slowly, gently, watching her eyes as he did. When they fluttered closed and she tipped her head back, he leaned in and kiss the throat she'd presented to him. Then her legs came up and hooked on his back, and he began to move.

When he'd taken her against the wall, he'd felt almost nothing except the need for release, that dark desperation for reprieve from his own body and mind that came over him after a violent day. That need seemed to drive him harder all the time; it was a worry.

A worry for another time. For now, he wanted to feel everything. He wanted Laura to feel everything. Everything good and nothing else. He moved slowly, steadily, going deep, but gently so, sliding his arms under her shoulders. Propped on his elbows, he watched her face—her eyes closed, her mouth prettily open. He kissed her, sucking on her lower lip; as if in response, her hips picked up his rhythm and rocked with him.

He felt the snug, velvety firmness of her core embracing his cock, the satin slide of her skin on his, the silk of her hair where it lay over his arms, and he wondered that he could ever be this close to her and not _feel_ her. Not be _aware_ of every molecule of her presence.

He felt her fingernails turn inward against his back, and he released her mouth so he could see her. Her brow furrowed, her eyes yet closed, she bit down on her lower lip as soon as he gave it up. She was ready. He pushed up onto his hands and sped up his thrusts, rocking his hips from side to side as he did so. Her eyes flew open, and he grinned down at her.

"You like that, love?" He was surprised at the strain in his own voice.

She nodded.

"Tell me."

She moaned harshly and shook her head.

Keeping up his pace and his motion, feeling the edge of his own need for release moving over him again, he said, "Tell me what you like. What you feel."

Again she moaned and shook her head, but she said, "It's…it's like when you do"—she made a whimpering moan as he rocked his hips—"that…it feels…it's like…oh, God, I don't—it's…yeah, oh, there, there. Oh, God—"

She never finished the thought. She didn't need to. He'd heard everything he wanted to hear. Her body went rigid; her nails dug into his skin and dragged across to his sides. He could feel blood beading on his back. "Aye, lass. That's it. Ah, that's it."

He sped up, moving as fast as he could, no longer rocking, focused only on being inside her, as deep and tight as he could be. He held off until he felt her body finally begin to soften again, and then he came with a groan.

Exhausted, he eased his full weight onto her breathless body. She hummed contentedly and hooked her arms around his neck. They lay still like that, their breath sharing a rhythm.

As Chibs came back to himself, his brain finally recovering fully from the manic, incoherent intensity with which he'd come home, his thoughts turned to the day that had been. The happy ease of lunch with his lasses. The way Laura had seemed finally relaxed around his brothers. Eileen's open joy on the swings.

The destruction of those swings minutes later in a gunfight. Torturing a man to death in a way brutal beyond his imagining. His fierce, desperate need, and Laura's acceptance of it. On this day, all the parts of his life, all the parts of him, had caromed into each other. He realized several things with crystal clarity.

Laura was his, truly. Today, she had shown him that she had fully accepted him and his life, as different from her experience, as dark and uncertain, as it was. She was in.

The Sons were, again, always again, on a dark road. Even without getting intel today, even though weeks had passed since they'd blown up a second meth lab and killed those kids, Chibs knew what the attack had been: retaliation. Bobby was right, not that anyone had doubted him—the meth kids obviously had heavy muscle behind them. The new crew, the Hermanos of whatever they were, meant big trouble. Cartel trouble. The slow response spoke to a deadly kind of patience that only came with power.

Blood would be thick and deep, for months—maybe years, if the past was any indication. The blood was already thick and deep. A few weeks ago, they'd killed five boys, one not old enough to drive. Today, he and Hap had killed a man by ripping him apart from his anus. Gordo was dead. Joey, Juice, and Tig had all shed blood for it. And if not for a happy twist of fate, timing working in his favor for once, his lasses' blood would have been shed. His heart shuddered and missed a beat at the thought.

They were not safe with the Sons. They were not. The club would need to ally again with the Galindos to gain their help, and the implications of that were not yet clear, but however it played out, Charming was again a dangerous place to be. Cartels went for families directly—brutally. Hap knew that more than anyone. What the Lobos had done to Hap's family, in his home, _twice_—Chibs could not put Laura and Eileen in the way of such harm. He had to make some distance for them. It might not be enough, but he had to do what he could. He could not lose them.

He could not lose them. Nor could he give them up.

Chibs rose up onto his elbows and looked at Laura, who beamed up at him, her smile wide and relaxed, her skin glowing from their exertions. He kissed her nose.

"I want you away from the Sons. I was wrong to try to bring you in."

Her smile disappeared, replaced by drawn brows. Saying nothing, she pushed hard at his shoulders, fighting to get out from under him. He pulled out and rolled to his side, freeing her, surprised by the force of her reaction.

When she was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at her knees, she whispered. "What does that mean? _You're_ a Son. Are you—are you—God, are you _dumping_ me?"

Now she'd shocked the hell out of him. What the fuck? He sat up and put his hand on her shoulder, over her crow. She flinched. "Laura, no! Christ, it would kill me to lose you. No, love. No."

He felt her relief in the muscles under his hand. She turned her head, resting her chin on his fingers. "Then I don't understand. I thought it was 'the life.' I've been trying to understand my place, because that's what I thought you wanted. What is it you want, then?"

"I want you and Eileen to stay in Lodi. Away from Charming, away from the clubhouse. No more parties, no more lunches. We make our life here. It's far enough away that you'll be safe from what's coming." He hoped like hell that was true.

She turned, bringing her knee up on the bed, and faced him. He let his hand drop from her shoulder and picked up her hand instead. "What's coming? Chibs, what happened today?"

Knowing that this, too, was a test of her acceptance of the life he brought with him, he told her. Not the Judas Cradle, but the rest. She blanched when he told her about the swings, and he squeezed her hand.

When he was finished, she sat, staring at the mussed bedding. As he was about to break the silence himself, she finally looked up. "What about how Butch was with us today? Would we lose that? I felt safer with him."

It was a practical question, and it did his heart good. "You wouldn't lose protection. And if we locked down, I'd bring you in. But I want to keep you out of harm's way as much as I can. At least until this new thing ends and we settle back down. We always do, love. It's a cycle. The heat's on Charming. Here, we're far enough away."

"What about taking Leenie to Neeta's?"

Another practical question. She wasn't panicking at all. As far as Chibs could tell, she wasn't considering leaving to be a means to protect herself and Eileen. She truly was his. They both were. "We can afford any daycare you want. We should find something here."

"But she loves Neeta. And Hayley."

"I know. I'm sorry." Eileen in Charming without him or Laura was not acceptable.

Laura sighed. "Okay. I'll bring her to work with me until we figure out something new. I'll talk to her."

"She could invite Hayley here."

Laura shook her head. "No. Her parents are afraid of you. That's why she hasn't been around before now."

Chibs felt a spike of protective paternal anger at that. It must have shown on his face, because Laura smiled and put her hand on his cheek.

"It's fine. I told her that Hayley was a friend for school, and she rolled with that just fine. I think we might have to deal with that kind of stuff as she gets older, and be more straight with her, but it's fine for now."

"Maybe not in Lodi. The Sons are known here, but not like they are in Charming. That could be better for her, too."

She cocked her head, thinking. "You're right. That's good. Okay. We stay here. But that doesn't protect you, does it? You're still at risk."

He could carve out a safer life for them, but not for himself. "It's risk I earned, love. Nothing I can do about that. I'm as careful as I can be. Something happens, you'll be taken care of, I promise."

Her laugh at that was dry and bitter. "God, that's not my worry."

"I know. I just want it said." He had another challenging request of her. "Laura, I want you to learn to shoot."

He eyes went wide. "Chibs, no. You know I hate guns. I _hate_ them."

He scooted close to her, pulling her into the shelter of his body. They were both still naked and smelling of sex; it should be strange to be having the conversation they were having in these circumstances, but it wasn't. "I know, love. But I need to know you can defend yourself if you must. Defend Eileen. Please. It's important."

She sagged against his chest and was quiet. He laid his head on her shoulder and waited her out. Sometimes she needed to, as she said, "process," and, as much as he could, he gave her the time to do it.

"Just, like, a pistol, though. Nothing big."

Relieved, he kissed her crow. "Something that'll fit your wee hand. Thank you."

She nodded and snuggled closer; he wrapped her up in his arms. This. This life filled him. He was a Son. He would always be a Son. He owed the club more than he could ever repay, and he loved his brothers more than he could ever express. But that life was half a life. It was rough and crude and brutal. Years without a life like the one he'd made with Laura and Eileen had left him weary, his soul hardening, growing distant. Loving his lasses had brought him home, made him alive.

He felt her fingers on his arm, tracing the letters of her name. He kissed her temple and whispered, "I'm yours."

-oOo-

Chibs couldn't sleep. His brain rolled over and over the scene at T-M. The swings swinging from the impact of gunfire, the rows of bullet holes where Eileen and Laura's heads had been, the scattered remnants of Mr. Snuffles. How close he'd come to losing everything.

He would keep them. He would keep them safe. He would keep them. He had to.

Laura was quiet and warm in his embrace, sleeping deeply, as she did, her head nestled on his shoulder, her hand on his chest, her leg hooked over his. He could feel her stillness like a balm, but his head still buzzed. He was in no danger of losing control, but rest would not come.

In fact, it was becoming impossible to lie still for Laura's rest. He needed to move. He kissed her head and eased out from under her, setting her gently on the pillows. She moaned softly and then pulled her legs up to make herself into a ball. Then she was quiet again, and Chibs left their bed.

He grabbed a clean pair of jeans from the closet and stepped into them. He wanted to check on Eileen, and then get some whiskey. Drown the demons. He went out into the hall.

There was a light on in Eileen's room. Her door was mostly closed, but there was a halo of quiet yellow light around it. He knocked and opened the door.

She was sitting in the middle of her bed, reading _The Velveteen Rabbit_.

Bloody hell. Mr. Snuffles.

"Hey, pretty. Can't sleep?" He walked in and sat on her bed.

She shook her head. "I'm lonely without Mr. Snuffles. I forgot him and he's going to be mad at me. Did he come home with you? Mommy said he would come home with you."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He picked her up and settled her on his lap, trying to think what to tell her. The book she was reading was lying on her pink and yellow comforter. They'd read it together on one of the first days he'd known her. The story of a bunny who is loved so much he becomes real.

He wrapped his arms around his wee lass and put his lips to her head. "Remember what happened to the velveteen bunny, pretty?"

She nodded; her silky hair moved against his face. "Uh huh. His boy loved him and hugged him and he got all shiny and lost an eye and the boy didn't hug him anymore. But then the boy got sick and wanted his bunny and the bunny helped him get better. Then the boy's mommy threw him away because of the sick and he was lonely and scared but then because the boy loved him so much and he was such a good bunny he got to be a real bunny and go away with the other bunnies and he wasn't lonely and scared anymore."

Chibs felt a swell in his throat; he swallowed it away. "That's right, lass. Do you remember when you told me Mr. Snuffles is like the velveteen bunny?"

"Yes but he's not really because I hug him all the time and talk to him and he's not scared or lonely at all." She stopped, and then she gasped. She looked up at Chibs, her bright blue eyes filling already with tears. Chibs had never seen Eileen cry before, and the sight clawed at his heart. "But I forgot him today and made him scared and lonely!" She began to sob in earnest, and Chibs pulled her closer, holding her wee head to his heart. He hadn't put a shirt on, and her tears wet his bare chest.

"No, lass. Don't cry. I saw him. He was sitting at the swings where we'd been playing. He wasn't scared or lonely at all. I could tell he was happy thinking about how much fun you'd had on the swing. Then a pretty lady bunny hopped over to him and gave him a wee sniff with her twitchy nose. He shuddered a little like this"—Chibs shook them both gently—"and then he was a big, beautiful brown bunny with long ears that stood up proud. He turned and gave me a look, like he was trying to tell me something. I'm not as good at hearing him as you are, but I listened very hard, and I got it. He was sorry not to be able to say goodbye to you, because he loves you very much. He wanted me to tell you that you gave him a good life and he thanks you for loving him so much he's able to be a real bunny now. And then he gave the pretty lady bunny a wee snuggle, and they hopped off together."

He'd never told quite so elaborate a story before. He hoped he'd told a good one. Eileen's sobs had slowed and then stopped as she listened. When he was done he set her back a little so he could see her face. He lifted her chin and wiped her tears from her soft cheeks. "You loved him so much you made him alive. That's the best thing you could ever do for him."

She nodded, her eyes still sad and serious. "But I'm lonely without him. And it's scary at night by myself."

He pulled her close again. "I know, pretty. It's hard to say goodbye to somebody we love. And I know it can be scary to sleep alone. Would you like it if I stayed with you the rest of the night?"

She nodded. "But just tonight. Because that's just for special."

Smiling, he laid her down and tucked her against his side. "Aye. That's right. Just for special. Maybe tomorrow we can look for another bunny who needs somebody to love him."

"Okay." She yawned.

"Sleep now, lass. All's well now." He kissed her head. "All's well."

This life. This love. This child. Her mother. He would fight to the death to protect and keep it all.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: **This chapter concludes the story.

Thanks to **Simone Santos**, **MuckyShroom**, and the Freaks. Love you.

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of Sons of Anarchy.

* * *

**Chapter 30:**

Laura opened the fridge. "What do you want me to pack in your lunch today, bug?"

Leenie bounced into the room, twisting her head back and forth to make her ponytails swirl around her face. "Peanut butter and honey sandwich. And apple slices. And a raspberry granola bar. And Cheez-Its. And three cookies." She held up her fingers for emphasis.

Pulling the bread and an apple from the fridge, Laura answered, "You can have all of that but the Cheez-Its. And you can have one cookie."

"Mom-_my_!" After only a month, kindergarten had somehow given Leenie a teensy dramatic streak.

"Okay, then. _Zero_ cookies."

Her eyes got wide. "No—no, one cookie is good. The toffee ones."

"Okey-dokey. Go eat your breakfast before it gets cold, bug." Leenie bounced over to the table and dug into her oatmeal.

As Laura put Leenie's lunch in her Hello Kitty lunchbox, Chibs came in and kissed her cheek. He pointed to the pot on the stove. "D'you make enough of that for me?" He limped over to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup.

"Of course. Have a seat and I'll spoon you up a bowl. Will Juice want some, too?"

"Not coming today. I'm riding in."

Laura dropped the spoon into the pot of oatmeal and turned around. He was standing there, looking at her as if he were prepared for any reaction she could throw at him. She'd see about that.

"No _fucking_ way." She swallowed the "fucking" at the last minute, thinking about Leenie sitting at the table on the other side of the breakfast bar, but she'd still managed to get Chibs to raise his eyebrows in surprise. One of the benefits of rarely cursing is that when she did, it came with impact.

"Laura. I've been riding for a week. It's fine."

She couldn't believe him. Was this just macho biker nonsense? "Like, around the _block_. Or as far as the bookstore. Sure. But not all the way to Charming."

"'All the way'? Laura, it's not even 20 miles." He sipped his coffee as if this conversation were normal.

Still thinking of Leenie, she kept her voice low, but she tried to drive her point home nonetheless. "Chibs. You got _shot_. In the hip. You were off your feet for weeks. In a full-leg cast. You had to have physical therapy to learn how to move your leg right again. They thought you might not be able to ride ever again."

"Aye, love. I was there. But I _can_ ride, and I'm going to ride. Today, I'm going to ride to T-M and anywhere else I need or want to." He stepped back to her and held out his hand. "Do I still get some oatmeal, or are you withholding food to punish me?" Then he winked. _Winked_.

With a huff, she turned back to the stove and spooned out oatmeal for him. She turned and started to offer him the bowl. When he reached, she pulled it back. "You call me. Not a text. A call. When you get there. When you get back on the bike to go someplace. When you get where you're going. Whatever. You call me."

"You know I can't promise that." He reached out more, and she pulled the bowl back more. Rolling his eyes, he said, "Fine. I'll do me best. Enough?"

She huffed again. "I guess. I'm worried." She offered him the bowl.

Taking his oatmeal, he leaned in and kissed her cheek again. "You're lovely when you're worried about me." Oatmeal and coffee in hand, he limped to the table and sat next to Leenie.

"Morning, pretty. Big plans for school today?"

"Uh-huh. This is my week to feed Rosie. Last week was my week to lead the line. Next week is my week to change the day on the calendar. But feeding Rosie is my favorite week."

Laura shuddered as she sat at the table with her own coffee and oatmeal. Rosie was the class pet. A tarantula. Her little pink daughter who loved sparkles and kittens and princesses and ballet also loved tarantulas. Tarantulas that ate crickets. Feeding Rosie was a whole lesson on the circle of life, and Leenie was totally into it.

Laura had had that rant in bed one night with Chibs, the first week of school, when Leenie had waxed rhapsodic about the class pet. Chibs and Laura has somehow missed Rosie during Parent Orientation Night. She was entirely grossed out by the thought of pretty little Leenie holding a giant furry spider in her pretty little hand like it was a miniature puppy or something.

Chibs had laughed at her. If he hadn't still been hobbling around in a brace that made him look like a cyborg, only a couple of weeks after he'd been freed from his cast, she would have punched him.

Now, he looked over at her with a knowing smirk. He was starting this day off in the minus column, definitely. She stuck her tongue out at him in response.

"Mommy, it's rude to stick your tongue out!"

She laughed. "You're right, bug. Sorry."

Leenie nodded severely, having taken care of the problem, and then asked, "May I be excused?"

"Yep. You know the drill. Be careful—not too much toothpaste this time, so it doesn't get on your top."

"_Okay_, Mommy." Laura wasn't keen on the new theatrics, not at all. But Leenie obediently picked up her dishes and took them to the sink, then bounded down the hall.

Laura turned to Chibs, who was watching Leenie on her way down the hall. He looked at Laura. "You hear from the lawyer?"

"Yeah. She left a message. She has the papers ready, and she's taken our statement and done whatever to make it official. She wants us to come in and sign in the next day or two. You're sure about this?"

"You know I am, Laura. Christ, I want it." He reached across the table to take her hand and squeeze it. "We'll go tomorrow?"

"Sure. We can drop Leenie off and then go over before I go in to the shop. I'll call and make sure she's available first thing."

Chibs was adopting Leenie. They were early in the process, and already there had been several snags—his criminal record and marital status chief among them. But the club's lawyer had put them with a family law specialist who was working some magic, and now they had a petition to sign and then file with the court. Hopefully, things would be smooth from there. Probably not, but hopefully. Laura wanted it. She wanted it so much. To give Leenie a father. An honest-to-God, official father.

Getting stiffly up from his chair—and making Laura fret again that he was riding to work—Chibs came around the table and kissed the top of her head. "Good. I'll see you tonight, love."

She caught his hand. "You call me. Don't make me worry."

He nodded. Then he called down the hallway. "I'm going, pretty. Have a happy day at school, yeah?"

"WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT!" Leenie came tearing up the hall and plowed into Chibs, wrapping her arms around his legs. He staggered a bit and winced. "Have a good day and I love you!"

Laughing, he put his hands on her head. "I love you, too, pretty. I'll see you later."

"Okay!" She released him and ran back down to her room.

Chibs turned to Laura and winked. "I'll be fine, love. I'll call when I can."

"You better." She got up and gave him a fierce hug.

After he left, Laura cleared her dishes and Chibs', and then rinsed everything and loaded the dishwasher. After she closed the door, she stood at the sink, looking through the window into their back yard. It was fenced, now. They had patio furniture to go with the grill. She'd done some planting, and it looked nice.

They also had a fancy new alarm system, with cameras and floodlights on motion sensors and everything. That was a little creepy. And Laura had learned to handle a gun. That was creepy, too.

The summer had been overwhelming, terrifying, intense. Despite his intent to keep them clear of Charming and MC business, he'd had them brought in twice for lockdowns, and they'd had one Prospect or another, Butch or one of the new guys, hanging around with them on several occasions. Chibs told her what was going on when things were dicey, and it was horrifying to think of him being in such situations.

And then he'd been shot. The weeks when he'd been bedridden, told to prepare for the possibility that he'd never again walk well, much less ride, had been…difficult. _He_ had been difficult. She'd thought for a time that he was going to send her and Leenie away.

But she'd stood fast, and she'd brought Leenie with her to the hospital as much as she could, because she missed her Chibs, and because Laura wanted him to see and remember what it was he was trying to push away. She'd stood fast, and he'd opened back up. When she got him home, he'd even tolerated her fussing pretty well.

Now his prognosis was that he might eventually lose the limp completely, and he obviously could ride. Laura worried, though, that he was pushing things. The ride to Charming seemed far too long, far too soon. But he was gone, and they'd have to see how it went.

Things with the club had been quiet since the chaotic night of his shooting. She didn't know if that meant all this badness was over, or what. Chibs didn't seem to know, either. She'd thought often over the summer, when she spent every moment away from him worried he might not make it back to her, about whether she'd made a right choice to be with him, the right choice for Leenie. She'd certainly brought her daughter into an unconventional world. But she couldn't regret it. The conventional world had cast them out. She'd lost her job, her home, her family in the conventional world. Her godly parents, pillars of their community, had turned her out into the streets, pregnant and underage, rather than live with her shame. They'd rejected her again when she'd called them at her lowest point, standing in a liquor store, staring out the front window at her old car, where Leenie lay with a fever. The night they'd met Chibs.

Since that night, her life had been nothing like she would ever have imagined for herself or her child. She had experienced things that scared her. She had heard of things that scared her more. She'd met and come to know people from whom her parents would turn and run. She was still confused a lot of the time, still learning things about her life that she'd never thought she'd need to know.

In the end, all that stuff was beyond her ken. Like the ocean, it moved as it would, carried away what it would, left behind what it would. This world or the other, both were capricious. All she could do was focus on the little life she'd made with Chibs and her daughter. _Their_ daughter. All she could do was focus on making that life as good and happy as she could. And it was good; they were happy.

She and Leenie had been safer, more secure, more loved in the eleven months that she'd known Chibs than she had been since she was 17. Maybe before that—maybe her whole life, though she hadn't known it. Her parents' love and acceptance had been balanced on the point of a knife.

She remembered the questions Viv and Frank had told her to ask herself. _Do you love him enough? Is the good worth the bad?_

To both, her answer now was an unequivocal _yes_.

-oOo-

That night in bed, Laura lay on Chibs' chest, straddling him, panting. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a squeeze, with a smacking kiss to her head, then patted her ass.

"Up you go, love."

She kissed Leenie's name on his chest, then sat up and lifted high on her knees, and he slid out of her with a sucking plop. She moved to lie on her side, and he groaned and shifted uncomfortably, rolling to his side to face her, his bad hip up.

"The riding today was harder than you're going to admit, wasn't it?"

He grinned. "What kind of answer do you expect to a question like that, I wonder?"

"Why didn't you say something, then? I'd have been okay if we didn't…" She trailed off, still not entirely comfortable with any of the various ways to say "have sex." "Make love" seemed too sappy. "Fuck" too coarse. "Have sex" too clinical. She loved it when Chibs said he wanted to "have" her, but she hadn't figured out how to make that work on her side.

"And pass up the chance to have those glorious titties bouncing around while you rock back and forth on me cock? Love, you know me better than that." He grabbed a handful of boob and gave it a playful squeeze to make his point.

She groaned. "You are _such_ a caveman." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Do you want me to rub some of that stuff on your hip?"

Now he groaned. "That shite smells like somebody ate shite and then heaved."

"You're also _such_ a baby. It helps, and you know it. If I can deal with the smell, you can." Without waiting for his reply, she got up and went into their bathroom for the liniment. She came back and sat at his hip, squeezing some of the goo into her hand. Chibs was right; it smelled foul, like menthol and alcohol and who knew what else, but it helped, and over the weeks, she'd grown used to the odor. Before she rubbed it in, she leaned down and kissed the scar—a wide, long, red, ridged thing all the way across his hip. He flinched; he didn't like her to pay such attention to it. He thought of it as a sign of weakness. But she saw it as the opposite. He'd been shot, and he was here. All of his scars showed how strong he was. This scar gave her a kind of ironic comfort. He had survived.

She sat back and rubbed the liniment in, massaging the way she knew he liked, pressing her fingers into the meat of his thigh and his ass, rubbing in more gentle circles over the scar. He moaned and straightened out his leg slowly.

"Yeah, you love it," she laughed.

His eyes closed, he muttered, "Still smells like putrid shite."

"Big baby."

When she was finished, she took the liniment back to the bathroom and washed her hands. As she came back into the room, he patted the mattress in front of him, and she lay down with her back to his chest. He hooked his arm over her waist and nuzzled her neck.

"Do you know how I love you, lass?" He moved his arm, and she felt his finger drawing a line down her side, over her hip.

"I do. Like I love you." She snuggled closer and looked over her shoulder at him. "We won't ever have an anniversary, will we?" As soon as she asked, she regretted it. It was too close to a topic they'd put to rest. Except when they were talking about the adoption, they never mentioned his marriage anymore, and that was as it should be. It didn't factor.

His finger stopped. "What?"

She turned back and put her head on the pillow. "Never mind. That was stupid."

He grabbed her hip and shook gently. "No, lass. What do you mean?"

"We've known each other almost a year. It would be nice to have a day to celebrate, but we don't really have one."

"'Course we do. We have a few. The night after the beach. The day we got inked. The day we moved in here. Pick the one you like, and we'll make it our anniversary."

She thought for awhile. He was right—those were all important days. Which one was the most important?

Suddenly, it was clear. She rolled to her back and looked up at him, picking up his hand where it now lay on her belly. "The night you let me borrow your phone. The night we met. I know we weren't a couple then, and it was all weird and awkward, but that's the most important time. The night you saved us."

He was quiet, his dark eyes searching hers, long enough that she worried she'd said something wrong. Then he kissed her, lightly, quickly. Meeting her eyes again, he murmured, "No, love. That's the night you saved me."

THE END


End file.
